We are horrible at keeping our own secrets, my husband and I. We found out 2 weeks ago that I am pregnant (yes, yippee!) and decided we'd wait to find out how many weeks along I am until we tell everyone.
My friends and family are too smart.
Some just know me too well, and others read everything I say and jump straight to the conclusion of "she's preggers!"
Event number one that started the cloud of suspicion:
I had to have a blood test done.
I HATE having blood taken. I get anxious, sick, borderline panic attack and have to lie down, close my eyes and usually grip my husband's hand so tight he winces in pain.
This time I was worried, with my last pregnancy I had a horrible blood taking experience and was afraid it could happen again. I had been sick, my morning sickness with my first pregnancy was awful, severe and I am pretty sure I spent about 3.5 months doing nothing but vomiting everything back up that went in my mouth. The day of the blood test arrived, I was feeling ok, only vomited once that morning so was fairly happy with myself. Then after arriving, telling them I am a complete and utter pansy and will need to lie down, I was ushered off into a room with cute baby animal posters and a high bed with stuffed toys glaring at me. Yes, I am where the children come too get their blood taken, and I don't care.
After the usual light hearted chat, I stared at the posters while the nurse attempted to suck my veins dry........ Something was wrong.
It wasn't working.
My veins kept disappearing every time she jabbed them.
She asked if I had drank much water.
Yes I have but I have been sick.
So you are dehydrated.
4 nurses and six needle stabbing attempts later they finally managed to get that precious blood out of me.
With a baby needle.
I walked out of there with both arms looking like pincushions.
So this time I drank water all day, constantly sipping.
No matter how many times I had to rush off to pee I was determined to make this time easier.
Well it was.
I got to lounge in a comfy recliner chair and found out the reason why my blood doesn't want to come out. My veins are very deep so they have to really jab that needle in there to get to them.
It is slightly embarassing to bbe so deathly afraid of needles when I have gone through 20hrs of labour, drug free only to have a gigantic needle shoved in my spine right before I finally pushed my baby out. Yeah, childbirth I can handle but stick a spikey thing near me and I will get all woozy and possibly vomit on you.
The second suspicious activities:
I have been hit with morning sickness hard. Out of nowhere. Sick all day, exhausted, drained.
My sweet husband has been helping me so much. I wish I could return the favour with a decent cooked meal. I haven't baked any bread in over a week now, we had to buy some! But I have to admit, I love the light and fluffy texture of my toast in the mornings, it does my stomach some good.
Since I have been sick I have become a bit of a hermit, missing out on my usual weekly outings like playgroup, Women's Ministry, Mainly Music (fun music play time for kids). People have noticed, asked if I'll be there and I've had to fob them off with pathetic "I'm not feeling so well today" excuses.
At church you could hear it in their voices when they asked "So how are you feeling today?" that they knew what was going on. On Sunday it seemed like everyone was onto us, we had been caught! So we got one of our lovely friends to announce it to everyone. Not that they didn't already know!
So that is why I have been sick, lazy and stuck inside the house. I desperately want to do some gardening but have no energy and the thought of vomiting in my yard in front of our neighbours is not very appealing either.
So I'm going to snuggle back in bed with my vegemite on toast and cup of tea and keep counting down the days until that sickness disappears...