Congratulations …… it’s an Enema

My first pregnancy was pretty uneventful.

At the time you worry about whether you are standing too close to the microwave or have you eaten too many carrots and poisoned your child with excesses of vitamin A.

The things that your mind can worry about are pretty endless.  They tend to be the kind where your little eyes pop open from a peaceful sleep to worry and fret, while your husband/partner/sperm donor snores on peacefully.

Sidebar:  I’ve suffered from IBS in varying degrees for years.  This particular year it seemed to have increased in intensity. I had weeks of swelling and unbelievable cramping.  Eventually I made an appointment at a gastroenterologist.  I was not quite sure what one did – I had to look it up in the Yellow Pages and they had a helpful diagram which pointed to the body part and told me which specialist I would need – very clever marketing.  I was beyond caring and just wanted him to take the pain go away.

While examining me I had to lie on the bed in a fetal position as there was no way I could lie flat with that amount of cramping. He sent me along for the standard (and non-conclusive) blood work and then decided that a barium enema was just the thing to cheer a young girl like me up.

I happily took enough laxatives , ate my body weight in Buscopan and limped along to the x-ray to leave whatever was left of my flagging dignity while a doctor and a nurse shoved what was the equivalent of a garden hose up my bottom – all while trying to make small talk with me.  Me trying to hide my face and just weep quietly into the hospital issue pillow.

After a few more days of lying on the couch in what really was an inert position and moaning or whimpering, Kennith bravely suggested a pregnancy test, and as history can reveal it was positive.

I could not have been more surprised and had been so sick that trying to track my menstrual cycle did not really seem very important at the time.

Generally X-rays and Buscopan are not recommended as part of a diet during the early days of conception, so we had every reason  to be a tad worried.  We had a wonderfully knowledgeable OBGYN who he sent us a long for a few extra fetal assessment scans to put us all at ease.

We saw our little bean bobbing around in the amniotic fluid.  We were so full of smiles and good times that none of us noticed the cataclysmic H-bomb that that little bean had in his back pocket.

I fondly recall hours of lying on the bed on a Saturday afternoon reading my book and dozing off whilst a trail of saliva pooled on the pillow to wake me from my afternoon slumber.

It was all so pleasant, so idyllic, little did I know that there was a shocking awakening approaching …..

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