We've been in France for a week to see my Dad. Before we went I had a docs apt. I'd booked it to see about my anti-depressants and nearly canceled it since I'm hopefully not going to be needing them this winter, but over the weekend I had started with some nasty pains in my back and side. So I figured I might as well keep the apt and get my self checked out. It would also give me a last bit of reassurance that it was safe to fly this early in the pregnancy.
After having a prod around of my back and belly, the Doc said the thought it was probably just a water infection, but to make sure everything was ok, he'd send me for a scan. Which he managed to get for me right away!
I wound up with 2 scans in the end. The normal external scan found our little Squiggle's egg sack in my tummy, the right 6 week sort of size, but no Squiggle! So it was time for another internal scan (I'd hoped I'd not have to have another one of those after the PCOS check). And Squiggle turned up! Smaller than expected, and the heart beat was hard to find, but there all the same.
The lady doing our scans explained that I would probably wind up under close supervision now, which is kind of nice because it might mean we get to have more scans. A little worrying, but being a kept an eye on should mean we get ever better looked after.
So we made it to France. It was a nice enough week away. Jack loved it, Mark certainly seemed to enjoyed it, Dad and Fay loved being with Jack. I just felt sick and tired the whole time. I slept for a small part at least of every day. I was hungry though, and ate constantly. Then felt worse. We'd all three been suffering from horrible bloating and gas all week too, so jack wasn't wanting to eat much, and Mark got grumpy.
Worst of all though, poor Fay broke her wrist playing with Jack in a Decathlon store. Jack had found a whole wall of footballs and chosen one that cost about £30! We'd coaxed him away from that and to a small orange ball for about £4 instead. he and Fay were playing with it while Dad and Mark looked at some fishing stuff. Fay was bouncing the ball and jumping about while Jack laughed, and her foot caught. She landed on her wrist.
She had to spend 2 nights in hospital and missed saying bye to us, but I've spoken to Dad since and she's come through the op well and is back home now.
Now that we're home too my sickness is not getting any better. Coming home on Wednesday knocked my last bit of energy out of me. We didn't get back until turned 1am, and Jack had not let me get any sleep on the flight so that I almost fell asleep at the wheel on the motorway home! All of Thu I dozed on the settee (which Mark had the nerve to have a strop about!) and couldn't face cooking so ordered pizza. I felt so much worse after I'd eaten that yesterday I avoided food as much as I could. I didn't have any dinner at all and went to bed at 6.30! That's an HOUR before Jack! This morning I felt much better. Mark had stayed on the settee so I had a great nights sleep (sorry hubby, but you snore, fart and fidget...). I got up with Jack and when to sort him out with some milk. I opened the fridge....... and had to charge of to the loo at warp speed to through up.
The fridge WREAKS of it! Which would explain why I was ill after the pizza, and possibly why I was suffering so much in France. But I LOVE garlic. It goes into almost everything we cook!
I'm certain little Squiggle is a girl, and that she's going to be a fussy eater too. It's gonna be a problem if she wont touch garlic!