The last 3 and a half weeks have been a rough ride at an uncomfortable time in the pregnancy. I was all set to finish work for maternity leave on 2 December when, after William had been home with a virus earlier that week, I then became more ill than I have been for many years, if ever. At first, my usual defiant self regarded this viral assault as a mere nuisance, something to be brushed aside and gotten on with, but the week defeated me and I did not return to work. Raj must have thought the same initially as his level of sympathy was none too high at this point.
The next 2 weeks saw me largely confined to my bed and desperation at my not being able to reach for the usual analgesia available to a non-pregnant woman. Worries about another pre-term delivery preoccupied me. Twice in the night I woke with severe abdominal pain which necessitated two calls (and 1 visit) to the emergency out-of-hours GP and a visit to the Womens' Hospital for CTG monitoring recommended by the midwife. These did little to raise my spirits, as the pain was largely muscular in origin, a result of the relentless coughing, made worse by these muscles being already stretched around the growing baby. I am not entirely convinced that I have not suffered some torsion of the bowel, however, as a deeper visceral discomfort remains, and I can but wait until the delivery to know if this will resolve itself in time. Although my spirits are now much brighter at the general and welcome improvement, the muscles of my left chest wall are still very tender, imposing a limit on deep breathing, another concern in the last days of the pregnancy.
I think I am ready to accept what will be, although becoming ill and the continuing persistent cough have been a blow to my pregnancy. Fortunately, Raj was able to give an incredible amount of support in the end, especially with William, and I am profoundly grateful for that.
