An apt follow-up to my last, up-beat post, I feel…

Went to town again yesterday.  Needed more medicine from the chemist, so thought I’d try getting it myself.  Popped into the toy shop on the way past.  It’s brilliant – much bigger than last time I went and full of lovely things.  Couldn’t decide on anything to buy there and then, but spent a while looking at all the gorgeous doll’s house things you can get for not too much…  That was probably my mistake.

Next stop the stationer’s, for a couple of things I need if I’m to make Christmas cards this year.  (Reading the newspaper cover to cover and doing the sudokus only takes you so far through a day…)  Feeling a bit woozy, but it’s only as I approach the cash desk to pay that I realise I really have to sit down.  And as I do, everything goes fuzzy and sounds are distant.  I need to lie down.  Or be sick.  Or get to a loo?  Glass of water, maybe?  Oooh, I feel dreadful.  And so hot!  Need to get my coat off.  And my jumper.  Better phone Dad…

I guess I was on the verge of fainting, but having only done that once before, I don’t have a clear idea how it feels.  In any case, it was rather embarrassing – take up the time of the shop assistant in a busy shop with my requests for water and help finding the loo…  A lovely, lovely customer with wonderfully chilly hands from being outside put one hand on my forehead and one on the back of my neck as I sat, unable to move and only partially aware of my surroundings, beside the till.  Funny, that.  In any other situation, it would be incredibly odd to accept such touches!

Dad came to pick me up, and I felt wobbly for a little while, and headachy and fragile for the rest of the afternoon.  And I thought I was getting back to normal, a healthy 30-something pregnant woman.  Was I naive?

I just walked back from the doctor’s (about a ten minute walk).  To some people that might not sound like much to remark on, but you may have gathered from earlier entries that I’ve been housebound.  Seriously.  In the “shuffling walk” days a couple of weeks ago, I could shuffle from the living room to the kitchen, but gratefully made use of the chair in the hall on the way.  That awful drug was to blame, of course, and two weeks ago my dose was halved.  Some of the side-effects lessened straight away (eg the dry mouth – suddenly I was able to go twenty minutes without having a sip of drink!); others disappeared (shuffling walk), but some hung around persistently and inability to walk further than the next room was one of them.

Perhaps it’s taken a while for my system to adjust to the new dose, but over the past two or three days, I’ve been feeling better:  getting up less in the night, feeling less nauseous, getting dressed before lunchtime, able to stand for more than ten seconds.  Maybe it’s a miracle.  Or just pregnancy changes.  Whatever it is, that’s the furthest I’ve been able to walk for three months.  Three months!

It would be just the right time, too.  Although I’ve been persuading myself to believe that I’m just an incubator for the next few months and my own health (serious issues aside) and spirits are of limited consequence, there is the persistent awareness of children and a husband that used to be part of my life… and whom, indeed, I’m hoping to see at the end of the month when they next have a school holiday.  If I continue at this level, I will be able to enjoy their company rather than just struggle through it with a painted smile for the sakes of the children.  Wouldn’t that be great!

Had my dating scan today, which brought the due date three days forward from the one I’d been expecting (it’s now 8th April), so in a few days’ time I will be 17 weeks.  That’s rather good given that four weeks ago a doctor thought I was at 9 weeks!  And almost at the halfway mark…

Mum came along to see her grandchild, which was great, because I’ve had loads of scans now (a few extra ones for G – and R, I think) and know what to expect, but this was the first one she’s seen.  I have to say, though, that this is the first one where the picture’s been clear enough that I saw not only the eye sockets but the actual eye itself.  The baby was as active as mine usually are (actually, I think I’ve been feeling kicks the past couple of days) – a great sign for the future, I’m sure…

Saw the consultant this morning and my blood pressure has come down dramatically!  He was surprised, too!  It still has further to come, but this is the first time it’s moved away from high readings into the range of mild hypertension, so hooray for that.

Given that pleasing news, he was more amenable to listening to my complaints about the hated drug.  I took along my leaflet with the now 12 side effects I have experienced circled in pen and described how it seemed to have turned an active mother of three into a shuffling, housebound, fatigued old woman.  He let me halve the dose this week and we will see what happens next week – there is a possibility, he said, that he might let me drop it altogether – but I don’t want to get my hopes up.  I shall see if I notice any improvement this week and concentrate on that.

Have been having some nice phone conversations with E recently.  (I’m not generally up to chatting on the phone but make exceptions for my children – and husband!)  She’s quite confident speaking on the phone (has had plenty of practice from the past when Daddy was able to travel) and is now of an age where she will ask questions of me as well as chatter away about herself.  It’s quite touching:  she was asking all about my tablets the other day – she’s an old pro on the subject because she’s used to seeing me line them up on the breakfast table.

And the other day, I was lucky enough to talk to all three (and my husband, but he’s got the hang of talking on the phone quite well now, so talking to him isn’t so sweet), including a good detailed description of the day from R (“I played till lunchtime and after lunch I played some more…”) and a lovely “Hello, Mummy” and later, “Bye, Mummy” from G.  Ahhhh…..

Yes, rather high-tech hermit – I’m not relinquishing my internet connection…

But I do feel like I’m retreating from the world a little.  I thought I would write here earlier, tell you about the midwife’s visit, but on Saturday I spent large chunks of time slumped in my chair, not even up to reading a paper and certainly not up to the busy, noisy TV, so sitting up and thinking creatively seemed out of my reach.  Then on Sunday I stayed at home while my parents went to church – I had fully expected this to happen since about Wednesday, but it was still a little disappointing – made less so by the existence of Christian radio.  Listening to a service on the radio is great – like church with sofas and regular breaks to make drinks, snacks, visit loo etc.  When my parents returned from church, my brain was so full of cotton wool that I could listen happily to what was being said but offer no real contributions of my own…

When I was making plans to return to the UK, I thought Skype would be a good way to keep in touch with the children.  Now I’m starting to wonder.  Currently, I’m managing to wash my hair once a week, I have an attractive group of spots mushrooming on my face and I left all my make-up behind.  I could go shopping, but based on the last experience I can only manage one shop per trip – and I want to buy something to send for E’s birthday before I think about shopping for make-up…  Ah!  I’ve just realised – that means that buying a webcam is way down the list at shopping trip number three.  So I think I can stay hidden for another week or two, then…

I had a rough day yesterday.  I thought once I got to the UK and had nothing to do, no responsibilities, I’d feel a bit better, but yesterday proved me wrong in that, just as I’ve been proved wrong in so many other optimistic thoughts…  Yesterday it took me nearly till midday to finish taking my morning tablets.  I then overdid it by washing my hair – and had to leave getting dressed till the afternoon.  I did get a lift to the shops and back, where I made a couple of necessary purchases, but I paid for my activity in the evening by feeling wretched again.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t go to bed early because I’d taken my first dose of the awful drug so late that I was waiting around to take the third dose!

Mum understands all this weakness better than I do, as she has had ME for twelve years (and if you don’t know much about ME, watch this – it’s a brilliant introduction to the illness, although a bit close to home for me at the moment – I was in tears by the end!).  So she says wise things, such as “You did too much today, washing your hair and going to the shops,” and I’m still thinking, how can that be too much?

Anyway, to wallow in my misery, I took out the leaflet from the box of yukky tablets and circled all the side-effects that I’ve experienced.  There are eleven of them!  Some of them you won’t want to hear about, but the most comical is that I have developed a shuffling walk – and, in my pink, fluffy slippers which I’ve been happy to be reunited with, I feel particularly old-lady-ish!  I’ve tried lifting my feet up a bit, but it’s too tiring on my legs, so I’ve given up now and just giggle when I walk (as long as I’m feeling well enough!).  The other day I sat around the house most of the day wearing a skirt with socks and plenty of bare leg showing between the two – ooh, senior fashion!

And the doctor the other day commented on how young my mum is – so I’m on my own in this one!! 

So what did I discover at the hospital this morning?

• I was right to worry about the medication the previous doctor had suggested when I was admitted to hospital before my return
• The new tablet has done nothing to bring down my blood pressure.
• The awful horrible tablets are here to stay, so I’m preparing to feel awful for six months.
• I am borderline underweight – and those of you who know how much I eat will know that I fight against that as much as I can!  Maybe being in a country of so much delicious food and such variety will help that…

I had a few tests – blood, ECG – but don’t know any results yet.  Next appointment in a week’s time.

But in the meantime I have a first appointment with the midwife (at home!) to look forward to on Friday.  It’ll be nice to feel normally pregnant for a few moments!

M is returning to the children now, flying tonight.  By all accounts, they’ve been coping marvellously, but are starting to feel a little adrift at times and looking forward to seeing Daddy again.  I wish I knew when I am going to see him – and them – again…

Wow.  It’s a completely different experience from travelling with them!  Pity I wasn’t feeling great for bits of the flight, so couldn’t quite make the most of it – and needed to sleep during the flight that had loads of good films on, but M and I did watch Mars Attacks! together on the first one which was as much fun as when we saw it the first time.  Hopefully, when I return they’ll show The Time Traveller’s Wife; I loved the book, so it’d be interesting to see the film and immerse myself in the story again.  Mind you, perhaps as I loved the book it’d be a mistake to watch the film…

As soon as I explained to people that I was three months’ pregnant and finding it difficult walking and standing, I got loads of support from everyone.  On both flights, we were moved to business class for landing so that we could be among the first off the plane.  M and I managed Dubai airport together, but I was worried about Heathrow because it’s huge and we landed first thing in the morning (after not enough sleep), so I knew I’d be feeling at my worst.  However, I was allowed to ride in a buggy with the wheelchair users to passport control.  M had to walk, so he went on ahead to get the rental car.  The queue for passport control looked dauntingly large, but the woman assisting the wheelchair users said she didn’t want me trying it on my own, so I obediently waited for help.

A man came along who said he’d accompany me through, and as he was taking an empty wheelchair with him, I thought I might as well sit in it!  He then took me all the way through to arrivals, since he was off for his coffee break!  All so much easier than I’d feared… and I just had time to buy a snack for the journey before M arrived with the car.

Drove down to Dorset and to the doctor’s appointment that Mum and Dad had arranged for me.  I’m still on the horrid drug for the time being (and am now trying to swallow one mega-tablet instead of two far-too-big tablets each time… grateful for Mum’s tablet-cutter!), but they’ve added in a new one and I have an appointment at the hospital tomorrow.  M’s staying here to come with me to the hospital (and look after Mum and me as Dad is out all day) and then he’ll have to fly back.

Meanwhile, I’m enjoying TV in my own language and having no responsibilities beyond getting my own bowl of cereal and the occasional drink!  And given that I still need a good sit down after doing anything as energetic as that, and lots of sleep, I’m feeling grateful for pretty much everything…

…

Have just re-read the last few entries and realise I haven’t told you anywhere where the children are!  My wonderful sister-in-law, who lives, as some of you may know, in the same city as us, is looking after them this week, along with her three of similar ages to ours, and while also working as a primary school teacher.  It won’t surprise you to hear that she’s one of the people I’m feeling most grateful for this week!

Apparently when G’s nursery “teacher” (can you call them that at that age?) asked him where he slept last night, he said, “In a bed,” so his feet are firmly on the ground and it doesn’t sound like he’s having too hard a time.  “What house was the bed in?”  “S’s.  I see B and E.”  These are his three favourite children after E and R, so he and the girls are probably in the best place they could be at such a difficult time.

Right, very brief update, because I should be going to bed but don’t know when I’ll next get a chance to write here.

I have been to the doctor here this evening, who said my blood pressure was fine for me to fly.  He also scanned the baby and we saw it kicking about happily.  So we’re expecting to fly tomorrow evening, arriving in the UK on Monday morning – and then I’ll head to Dorset to stay with my parents (unless I’m admitted to hospital there as well, I really don’t know what to expect).

I’m not looking forward to the flight, as I find walking very very tiring and standing virtually impossible for more than a minute, but M is flying with me, so I’ll be well looked after.  I am very much looking forward to being in the UK, of course – and of course you all understand when I say that that I would also prefer to be with my family and that I’m worried for M and the pressure he’ll be under.

The parting piece of advice from the doctor this evening was:  once this is all over, get your tubes snipped, woman!  It’s too risky to do this again.  I have to say I agree whole-heartedly with him in that point!! 

Two days after I started my lower dose of the hated drug, I felt so ill through the morning rush and the school run that I thought I wasn’t going to make it back home in the car.  Usually, I’m fine driving, or at least ok, but in some hard-to-describe way, I was desperate to lie down, sitting at red lights with my eyes closed and worrying where I would pull over to lie down on the path and go to sleep!  Slightly concerned by this, I measured my blood pressure when I’d rested for a while at home, told the doctor through my ever-helpful friend, and received a phone call from her saying, “Can you come in now?”  M had stayed at home to look after me, so he drove me, with our friend, to the hospital.

Where they decided to admit me.  I guess in the back of my head I knew that I would be in hospital here at some point in all this (like, the birth), but suddenly I was terrified.  This wasn’t a normal procedure of popping a baby out, this was drugs I didn’t know, needles in my arm and then one of those tap things in my hand, nurses and random other people who spoke no or little English, a bed that was hard, a TV in the room but all in Arabic apart from one blood-and-gore channel in English.

M had to leave to pick the children up from nursery and school.  Soon after he came back to bring some things for me and take our friend home.  Then I was alone.  And, fortunately, sedated.  Never had that before, and not quite sure why they thought it necessary given that my problem recently has been staying awake, but I was grateful to forget where I was and sleep for a while…

Waking, I felt calmer.  I had a good book, no-one bothered me except to bring food, which while simple was brought at sensible times (and I had some fruit, biscuits and fizzy drinks from M and friend to supplement it!).  Every now and then, someone took a blood pressure reading.  I read and read and in the evening had a visit from M and the children, who played in the room a bit, told me about their day and then went off again, waving cheerfully, “Bye, Mummy!”

The next day, my retreat room started to feel more like a prison.  Breakfast turned out to be virtually identical to the two meals I’d had the day before – a bread roll and yoghurt and very little else.  I finished my book, found CNN on the TV, got bored, turned it off again.  Had lunch, took Valium as directed, failed to sleep, brooded on all my problems instead and what would happen next.  I read a leaflet inside the packet of new medicine the specialist (who had corrected me that morning – he’s not a specialist, just a physician.  Oh.) had prescribed that morning.

Do not use on hypertension during pregnancy.  That’s what it said.  In medi-speak, but quite clear.  I showed it to the non-specialist-physician when he returned in the evening.  He read it slowly and carefully.  “Well, in that case, don’t take it.  Don’t take it,” he said.  So, he’s not a specialist, as I need to see – and he changes his mind about drugs on the advice of his patients.  GET ME ON THE NEXT PLANE TO THE UK!!!

The next 24 hours were tedious enough.  I doubled my awful-drug dose, not quite back to max previous levels, but close, enough to bring my blood pressure down enough for me to be discharged and, more importantly, pronounced safe to fly.

What a stupid week it’s been…