I LITERALLY LOOK LIKE A PREGNANT CLAUDIA SCHIFFER ON THE COVER OF VOGUE !
- I’m ABsolutely ‘uge.
- I’ve not only got morning sickness but round-the-clock sickness. (Nausea not hurling)
- I’m craving sweets. Aaaaaaaaallllllllll the sweets.
- I’m rubbin’ ma belly and doing pregnancy poses every time I catch a glimpse of myself.
- I’m slightly short of breath.
- My boobs have gone POW POW POW
- My nips are KILLING me. Which is weird cause historically they’ve always been numb. Like seriously tweak the crap out of them and I couldn’t feel it.
- I’ve got some major fluid retention giving me a ‘doughy’ arse & thighs and puffy back.
But strangely enough, I’m enjoying it. And weirdly, I kind of don’t want it to end.
I’ve now got FIFTY follicles growing inside my ovaries. FIFTY!!!!! 50 50 50 50 50 50 50 50 50 50 50
The female body is a seriously magical thing. How can my ovaries possibly cope with 50 follicles when they’ve never been required to foster more than one? It’s amazing.
I’ve got a whooole bunch of text-book pregnancy symptoms which are really signs that your body is pumping out buckets of oestrogen during the egg freezing process. In my case, I’ve got enough oestrogen pumping through my body to incubate those 50 follicles, hence the pregnant belly and ovaries the size of oranges. (They used to be jellybeans) Some of those follicles may not contain eggs, but hopefully many of them will.
I honestly do feel like I’m pregnant. Except I’m not pregnant. I think that’s why I’m feeling kind of attached to my eggies and don’t mind my belly so much. In all honesty, I’d like some more time to get acquainted with my new body and its symptoms. I’ve heard that pregnant women feel like this sometimes – like they’re not ready for it all to be over. I’m not nearly as upset and affected by the fact that Endo may affect my fertility as I was a short time ago. When I was first diagnosed, the news that I may never fall pregnant or carry a baby to full term completely broke me. Every time I thought about it, I bawled my eyes out. Every time I saw a pregnant woman or a new baby I’d cry. Every time somebody I knew fell pregnant I just wept. It consumed me. Two years on, I’m less concerned with getting pregnant and much more concerned with the other ways Endo has impacted on my life such as work, a career, travel, my general health. I’m much more positive now that when the time is right, I will fall pregnant naturally and have my own big beautiful belly to rub. But there’s always that little worry and churning sadness (much smaller and quieter now) that maybe I won’t.
I have a strong feeling that this is why I’m feeling reluctant to have my 50 eggies taken away from me. I like housing them and keeping them warm.
Every day I’ve been very good about drinking my daily requirement of 2-3 litres of water. This is really, really important. (Especially before a blood test, otherwise the blood has a tough time coming through the line) But the bigger I’m getting the harder it is to guzzle and hold huge amounts of fluid in an already-full belly.
This morning I went back to Genea, or “the chook pen” as my mate Ash has named it. I had another ultrasound and another blood test – apparently the last before I have the procedure in a few days. Before I went to the chook pen, I took 2 panadeine (suggested by a nurse) which meant that the dildo-probing was only miiiiildly discomforting.
Oh and by the way, do you know what they slide over the dildo probe before they probe you? A CONDOM!! My mum watched the woman rolling it on as I was getting half naked behind the curtain. “Oh. That seems appropriate!” she said.
It wasn’t all good news though. My blood-taking lady told me I’d be a terrible junkie because I have “baby veins”. So that was a bitter pill to swallow.
I dragged myself home to gorge on Lindt chocolate and Adriano Zumbo macarons to console myself about this and tried to imagine a better life for myself. That was difficult. Especially while watching Dr Phil.