6 weeks in still working two jobs and maintaining a house I could feel my body changing. Not only was I peeing like it had gone out of fashion my food had decided it didn't want to take the usual exit out but rather direct itself north and enter the toilet, bucket, bag or anything else handy at another route. By 7 weeks I was signed off work, with severe morning sickness. I hate that phrase, I reckon a man invented it. Morning, afternoon and night sickness is what describes it a whole lot better. At this point I was being sick a record number of times a day. If I say 50 I ain't exaggerating. Food what was that? if I saw, smelt or even came in to contact with the stuff, my insides would make a steady route upwards. By nine weeks the doctors had re-evaluated my situation and diagnosed me with hyperemesis gravidarum (a severe form of M*?#*!g sickness) fluids where now not contemplatable either. I spent my days in bed, wishing for the next day to come.
At ten weeks and nearly two stone lighter than when I began pregnancy I was taken into A&E. All I could do at this point was cry, I didn't have the energy for anything else.
I will always remember the nurse that saw me. He sat me down and laughed "don't worry you will have forgot about all this in 2 weeks or so" If I would have had the energy I would of punched him right there and then. There is nothing more patronising to a pregnant women to be told by a man don't worry it will be ok in then end. May I ask "how the hell do you know?" I ain't sexist but when you have hormones rushing through your body at a million miles an hour every man on the planet should no longer exist.
Anyways he sat me down linked me up to one of them heart rate, blood pressure machines and turned a funny shade of white. He then had the audacity to smile at me and tell me my heart rate was where he would expect someone who had just ran a marathon at full speed to be. Thanks for that! I know I'm dying now god damn help me man!
Within 5 minutes I was given some form of relaxant and hooked up to fluids. While they ran more tests. From there the next few hours is a blur. I was living on some planet near Pluto with a bottle of wine and a joint in my hand. What ever he had give me was amazing..........
I will write the rest of this story at some point but for now that WAS me.
Me now. I'm Clare, I've got too the splendid age of 23 the time to start debating which anti wrinkle cream is best. I live with my partner Ste he claims to be a Chef I still argue this fact with him. I infact think hes a really bad pot washer but for arguments sake, hes a chef. Thankfully hes older than me the grand age of 28 so every morning I can wake and thank my lucky stars I am 23. Im kidding Ste. No hate. Our little girl is now 14 months old and called Belly-boo. I know, she will kill me when she's older. Real name Isabelle. Last but not least there's Layla she is technically a dog of the border collie breed but in our house she's the demanding child with low self esteem. Despite all this I love them all dearly and actually wouldn't of been here without there love and care. Well except Isabelle if she weren't here I'd probably be sat right now in a sticky floored bar with a glass of vodka and pretending to know the words to some ridiculous dance song.
Hmmmm how life changes
