What a change 9 months makes? WOrk has been manic, I have literally been doing nothing else, aside from a cheeky trip
back to the UK and Tobago - Oh, and my darling daughter number 2's (DD2) birth!
It started as me being utterly exhausted,
unable to concentrate at work and wanting to sleep non stop if I was anywhere
else. The tiredness was like nothing
else. I was sleeping so soundly that I
didn’t hear my daughter (DD) coming into our bed at night. I was going to bed at 7pm and sleeping
through my alarm. I put it down to
family staying for three weeks and entertaining every night yet maintaining a
job. I was just so tired…
I suddenly had all the symptoms with
horrific sickness and diarrhea to match my extreme tiredness. I could keep nothing down at all and had to
cancel the breakfast that I had booked with a fabulous friend Holly. Luckily Holly was awake when I text at 6am to
say I wasn’t well, and immediately jumped in her car driving from one side of
Dubai, all the way to the other, calling me en-route to say she was coming to
look after my daughter so I could rest.
Despite her protestations, I initially
refused hospital. Gastroenteritis has
been going around town, so I was sure it would pass. After spending several hours asleep and
waking only to check that Holly was still OK with DD, I found that DD had been
sick too. Realising that I had to get
better to be able to look after my daughter properly if she were ill (she was
actually completely fine in herself, but you just can’t risk it can you?), we
took her to her Godfather’s house and Holly took me to hospital.
After 9 bags of fluids, several blood tests
and various injections later, I was told that I had Salmonella Blood
Poisoning. “Have you been experiencing
any other illness recently?” asked the Doctor as she told me the test
results. After I said no, I had just
been tired, she asked, “Did you not know you are pregnant?”
The room span. “Pardon?”
I asked, not believing what I had just been told. We had spent years trying to get pregnant,
and when it didn’t happen and with our adoption window was narrowing, we
adopted our most precious DD. In those
years, you quickly learn that actually ‘physically being pregnant’ is not the
be-all and end-all. All you want is the
child at the end. In fact, the more
times you see your monthly cycle alive and kicking, the higher and thicker the
brick wall is built about whether or not you want to become physically pregnant. I lost count how many times over the years I
have said, “Actually, I am far too selfish to be pregnant. I like my body the way it is. My boobs are in the right place and I have a
small waist, plus a crying newborn baby? Why would I have a child?” This was my standard moniker that I trotted
out when I was continuously asked (normally by family who should have known
better), why wasn’t I pregnant yet?
After a few months of repeating these
sentiments, you do start to believe it.
Years on, you not only believe it, but the thought of pregnancy quite
literally revolts you. In fact, by my
mid 30’s, I felt better about my body than I had ever done before. Oddly, just one month before I found out I
was pregnant, I recall standing in my underwear in front of the full-length
mirror in our bedroom saying to Ian, “Actually, my body really isn’t that bad for
a 36 year old is it?” I truly meant it
too. I also remember vividly that I
thought I only looked this good because I hadn’t had physically carried a
child… That said I did not care. After years in a mentally abusive
relationship being told I was fat, and being constantly compared to other women
who looked far better than me, Ian had installed confidence in me again, and I
was loving it!
We took the decision to give up trying for kids’
years ago, way before our daughter came along.
Our new mantra was, “if it happens, it happens.” People would ask us why we weren’t IVF’ing. Personally speaking, by the stage IVF was a
consideration, all I had ever wanted was the baby at the end. Adoption was a much more natural
consideration for me, and although discussing whether or not to IVF with Ian (I
would absolutely have gone through the process had Ian have wanted me to), he
surprisingly agreed with me that we would adopt. It was a further couple of years though
before we were able to complete the process.
Adopting our daughter was the best thing we
have ever done. She completed us and we
are so lucky to have her. But it
reinstalled in both of us that your flesh and blood does not make a ‘family’. It the unconditional love that you have for
that child; How you would trade places at the drop of a hat if they were in
pain or in danger, how you live to see their smile each morning and think there
is no better sound in the world than hearing their laughter. Naturally, when we spoke about extending our
family, it was only ever in discussions about adoption, never anything else.
The thought of my falling pregnant never even crossed our minds.
Last November we had been speaking about to
whether to adopt again or not and decided that we were in the middle of such an
exciting age with our DD, where she was developing such a magnificent
personality and getting more independent daily, we just didn’t think we would
ever be this lucky a second time around.
So when the Doctor explained that I was
actually around 12 weeks pregnant, shock set in. I just sat there mutely, my head swirling. She continued oblivious to the fact I wasn’t
listening and luckily Holly was, “This is why the blood poisoning had taken
hold so quickly as your immune system is lowered in pregnancy,” and what the
next steps where that I should take to deal with both the salmonella and how to
proceed with the pregnancy. “Take it
slowly, take a month off work,” Yeah right – One day off and a week working
from home more like. I had a deadline to
think of! “And rest up,” not to mention the scans, finding an OB etc.
I took some practical (and
impractical) steps myself. Yes, I have
brought surgical garters to help me heel more quickly, because I was scared I
won’t get my figure back, but I couldn't fit into them in the end. Yes, the
thought of stretch marks on my belly still brings me out in hives, so I wish I had taken
out shares in bio oil so I can make
some back some of the money that I am spending on their product. Yes, the thought of aging another 10 years in
the space of one month because of lack of sleep has had me looking at the cost
of a facelift; not to mention the tummy tuck and boob jobs that I have
reviewed. Age I have. Badly in-fact over the last three months, but luckily I think I will be able to avoid the tummy tuck as my belly went straight back (well within 2 months anyway) Boob job though may yet be avoided, but only time will tell.
What petrified me the most was how was I going to get that balancing act perfected
quickly between the two girls. It is only recently that DD1 has started to show the tiniest hint of jealously. Like tonight, when I was dancing around the room the room with DD2 to LMFAO, DD1 asked if it was her turn yet. The
thought of either feeling left out as they grow up makes me feel physically
sick.
I have also been incredibly worried about the strain of having a baby will put on my husband and myself. Actually, when it is just the four of us, we get on really well still although I do wish he would accept that I know best! When others are meddling though, it is very stressful. But that's life I guess. We are just lucky that people don't live locally to make this a major issue. Actually the list of these real fears is
endless. How do other mums do it?
DD1 is a very proud big sister. She loves to introduce her baby sister to everyone. She wants nothing more than to hold her and kiss her as often as possible.
I was completely unable to take it easy after the birth. THats a story for another day. I did go back to work after six weeks, but being able to work from home and cutting back events to one or two a week means it is very managable.
I still have not got my head around the body issues though.The idea of having a baby I still think is revolting. In fact, when I think about how I carried DD2 in my belly – I can’t
help but think of the scene in Alien when the Alien erupts from Sigourney Weavers stomach - which is pretty much exactly what her birth was like. Whilst I couldn't see what was happening as they screened my face from my neck, I could feel a numb prodding, pulling and pushing when the Doctor was rooting around inside my (a friend described how her c-section reminded her of washing in a washing machine). According to my husband, my insides were literally pulled outside of me as the Doctor gained access to my womb. It was when DD2 was finally pulled from me though that I properly turned into Sigourny Weaver... with blood flying all over the place as she was pulled out.
DD2 is gorgeous. She is a mini me of her daddy, but hey - we can't have everything. DD1 is so proud to be a big sister sister and introduces her to everyone who enters the room. It is very rare for people to experience both an adoption and the birth of their own, and I am very lucky to say that I have.
We know life will be tough. Racism, people's perceptions... I was told I had a "white entitelist mentality" in a FB forum by some boy who on viewing his profile, had just started university and addmitted in his own words had no experience of adoption or what people go through to adopt. He even boasted that his own parents were still together and he went home for dinner several times a week, but viewed myself and my husband as Bradjelina wannabes.
I wouldn't change it for the world though. I am very proud of my little family. They come first. I find myself worrying more for DD1's future than DD2 because the world is a very different place to what it was when we adopted. I know from the hoops we are jumping through trying to secure her citizenship, but at the end of the day, my family comes first. We will do everything in our power to protect our daughters and whilst that could mean we may end up living in Addis Ababa, then so be it. Their security and health comes first, everything else pales into insignificance...
