We planned to go to Egypt before I ever knew I was pregnant.

I knew we would likely try a frozen embryo transfer in February, but I was assuming that in case it was negative, we would use this holiday in the sun to recharge after the disappointment. That seemed like a good plan, right?

But it did work! So suddenly I’m pregnant, in the middle of my first trimester, my nausea is ramping up something fierce, and we are packing to go travel.

I can’t keep anything down before we are meant to leave, and Jo kindly offers to leave the trip be, to just stay home and be sick, but I refuse. I am so desperate for some sun, and I don’t want to let that go.

So we leave. What little I had in my stomach, I throw up in the Charleroi Airport bathroom. It’s not the very best of starts…

After a long and exhausting trip, we make it there. Beautiful Dahab, one of my very favourite places in the world.

There is so much to explore, but I hardly do anything but sleep. Ten hours each night, and two or three naps per day. I nap on a sun lounger by the pool every day, call it ‘tanning’, and it makes me feel better about not doing anything more exciting.

We do take walks. We go out to eat – a difficult task given that each time we have to walk past fish BBQ that makes me heave, so I pass by it while holding my nose shut time and time again.

By the end of our stay there, I’m sure half of the town guessed I am pregnant.

And then the trip back…

We are stuck by the Israeli border, in an endless queue, missing our bus, me trying not to pass out and sitting on a dirty floor, when my phone pings with an app ‘Congratulations mama, you are eight weeks along!’0……..

It makes me smile at least.

The trip back to the airport ends up being a hasty taxi ride through desert roads. Another endless queue, security checks… I actually make in onto the plane, eat something, and then feel the by now all-too-familiar ‘this is not going to stay down.’

I have a window seat, so I have to make everyone get up. I sprint to the air plane toilet. There is a queue, so I urgently ask whether they will let me cut in front because I am about to be sick. People grumble, but do let me go, and then I awkwardly balance over the terrible air plane toilet (ugh) and throw up – not my best moment!

It’s rough.

Enough so that combined with the air pressure in the plane, a ton of blood vessels in my face and eyes burst(!)

I don’t think I’ll ever forget what I looked like in that air plane mirror, eyes teary and bloodshot, red dots of burst blood vessels all around my eyes and my face. Absolutely wrecked, so done, so very done…

I am very grateful for the holiday we had, the sun, and the time we had together. But early pregnancy is BRUTAL. There’s no sugar-coating it. This stuff is hard!

Especially if you’re crazy enough to travel ;)

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