Well, yesterday, I didn’t.
The morning started off fairly normally. I was feeling a bit queasy, but a quick Google search revealed that hCG levels (the evil hormone that makes baby grow and Mum feel ralphy) climb again at about week 27. Hello, textbook pregnancy!
It was such a gorgeous day out – I was really looking forward to heading out to the top of the hill, and giving the dog a good walk. And with a view like this, who could blame me?
Upon returning to the car, I felt a bit detached from myself. I moved my arm across the steering wheel and made myself jump, as if I wasn’t expecting it there. My eyeballs were crackling, like I was struggling between the bright heat of the sunshine and the dark coolness of inside the car. I figured I was just a bit tired and hadn’t been drinking enough, got home ok, and started catching up on my Google Reader. Midway through commenting on a great post about celebrating our bodies – sorry Katie, I never finished the comment! – everything just went really, really fuzzy.
I sat still for a while, just staring at the wall. I have a recurring issue with pins and needles down my right side every few months or so, and so this started and my tongue went numb. I had a play on Twitter – maybe 140 characters would be easier to process! Yes, I have social media addiction issues. No such luck. I spent the remainder of the time until Patrick got home trying to understand why the word “afford” kept on giving me red squiggly lines every time I tried to include the letter p.
Patrick called NHS Direct and they rather alarmed us by insisting that they send an ambulance. In the meantime, I decided to try reading something again and picked up a magazine with Daniel Craig on the cover. When I read his name, it just didn’t sound right. I knew who he was – his name was right on the tip of my tongue, but I was certain that Daniel Craig wasn’t it.
The paramedics arrived and ran all sorts of tests – blood pressure, following things with my eyes, and pushing their hands up and down with mine. When Patrick gave them his name, that didn’t seem quite right, either. No major issues were found, and I had already started to feel less brain-dead, but as I’m a big fat pregnant lady and my blood pressure was slightly elevated (what can I say? I get Event Horizon flashes every time they put the cuff on) I had to go and see the doctor today.
Despite looking about fifteen, and wearing an outfit that proudly proclaimed that she was now in Sixth Form and wouldn’t be wearing uniform any longer, the doctor I saw today was absolutely lovely and seemed very proficient. I feel myself slipping into that godawful “nobody who has not given birth can possibly know anything about anything” attitude from time to time, and need to really, really check myself to make sure that doesn’t progress any further!
My blood pressure had come back to normal, and other pre-eclampsia tests came back clear. Pre-eclampsia was a bit of a concern for me, as the idea of bed rest for the next three months sounds like *hell*, and I had learnt, forgotten and re-learnt that my Mum had been a sufferer during her first pregnancy. I always remember the story of her having to switch to black coffee instead of Tab (retro!) because she didn’t like it that much, so it’d force her to cut back her caffeine intake. She’s now a ten-cup a-day lady! Pre-eclampsia could still happen, I guess, but every week that progresses before it does is a bonus. I love few things more than snoozing in front of the TV, but I spent three weeks doing that in 2009 and too much of a good thing is possible.
The official diagnosis is… Unsure. It could have been a migraine; it could have been dehydration; it could have been nothing at all! All I know is that I’m going to up my water intake and dial back my work a bit. I’ve been really reluctant to hand over my tasks to my colleagues, but it’s going to have to happen. In the meantime, I’m going to have to spend more time with my baby girl and enjoy some of this beautiful sunshine.