We have a secret to share *g*

Along with the NIPT test there was an option to check the chromosomes for the baby’s sex, and we chose to find out!

If we are to believe the old wives tales – I was very sick in the beginning, so that means a girl. We swayed a pendula over my belly, and it went back and forth, that means boy. I am mainly liking sweet things, that’s meant to be a girl. But my skin has been clear this whole pregnancy, so that’s a boy. One of those is probably right ;)

We waited two long weeks for the result, and then…

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I have talked a lot about encounters with doctors and clinics on this blog. We have experienced everything from the mildly annoying to the truly bad, but never have we had something happen quite like this! So, buckle in, and meet a seriously horrible gynaecologist…

Different from the last scan in the UZ, this was a doctor who comes highly recommended, one I was hoping to have for the rest of this pregnancy, so I was feeling optimistic when we walked into the hospital!

I was wrong to be…

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Oh thank god it’s over!

I won’t lie to you, the first three months of pregnancy have been hard. Horrible. THE WORST. I was on fourteen bits of medication a day at the end there. Trying not to puke up several of them each day has been quite the challenge.

I have felt like such utter shit. So exhausted, so worn, so sick. From the moment I started taking medications for the frozen embryo transfer in late January, I have not felt at home in my body. The puking definitely doesn’t help. I have a round belly, but the rest of me is bonier than I have ever seen it. Collar bones, shoulder bones, they all stick out. I never expected to be at my lowest adult weight ever while pregnant.

The worst part is that this whole pregnancy thing is supposed to be wonderful. We all know it isn’t really, but somewhere in the general zeitgeist, this is assumed to be the best time of my life. I walk into the pharmacy, saying “I am six weeks pregnant and I haven’t been able to hold down any liquids…” “Oh, congratulations!” “…right. So I need prescription medication…”

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Look at this adorable blob! It looks somewhat vaguely human? * laughs *

Way back when we were looking into fertility treatments, we went to the UZ Gent hospital first. We weren’t impressed with their way of working, so we ended up going to London instead. Then, after our treatment in London, we contacted them again to ask whether we could do a frozen embryo transfer there, and we were refused treatment. So really, it was my own fault that we even went there again!

It’s just that the gynaecologist I wanted to go to didn’t have time to see me yet, so it was either go to the UZ for this scan, or not see baby Sunshine again at all until the 12+ week scan.

I really did want to see this little one wiggle about, so we braved making an appointment at the UZ once more.

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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…

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