The Grubb

I think I’m in week eight of my pregnancy, based on the numerous due date calculators on the internet I’ve used since I got my first positive pregnancy test two and a half weeks ago. I had my first appointment to see Dr Taki today, and as predicted, he just set me up with an appointment with a midwife in week 12 –  the earliest they will really see you in the UK, on the NHS.

I have the week off work this week, and bizarrely, I’m dreading it – being alone with my nausea, knocking around the house. Last week at work whizzed by. I was busy and distracted working in my marketing job, sorting out urgent problems, travelling, gossiping, laughing with my colleagues and playing Christmas carols in the office. I hardly noticed the nausea, but as soon as I’m on my own it creeps back and I start to feel weepy and sorry for myself. I’ve learned that eating constantly is the only solution. I also read today that plenty of sleep keeps it at bay, and it’s true I felt much less sick after I had a 2 hour nap.

It’s still very early days for my tiny grubb – as my husband and I are so affectionately calling it. We’ve told a smattering of people who are close to us – our parents, my husband’s creative partner of seven years at work, and of course my close friends – who knew as soon as I pushed away the glass of Prosecco they’d poured me (I’d never refused a glass of prosecco in the entire history of my adulthood).

We’d been trying for over a year and a half before the grubb came. In fact, Dr Taki had just referred us to the fertility clinic a few weeks before I got my positive. When the lady called up to confirm my appointment in January, I told her about the happy development, and she sounded genuinely, really pleased, which was nice. Of course, it being so early on we’ve had a lot of words of warning: ‘don’t get too excited’, ‘it’s common that things sometimes don’t work out’, ‘if the worst happens, at least you know everything is working’. I am trying to brace myself for potential heartache, but in my gut I don’t feel it will happen and I feel my baby will grow to term. Still, every day is a small victory for me and the grubb. Me – trying my best to be as hospitable as possible, to sleep, to eat nutritious foods, not to stretch or move too much. The grubb – I guess just clinging on. Seems such a long time until we will meet.


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