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**Health warning: Pregnancy related post, read if you’re up to it**

Nobody warned me about the fainting. There I was, on my own in Church one Sunday. Still no sign of this morning sickness they all rave about, nothing to indicate on a daily basis that I was indeed, still ‘with child’. So I’m praying away to God like the lapsed Catholic I am to please let this baby last and make it to full term, please let me stay pregnant, God, please. There was all the usual stand-up, sit-down, kneel-downs of a regular mass and I was squashed in between two older women.

Towards the end of the mass, I began to feel unwell. Hold on, I thought – maybe this is morning sickness! Yaaay, I’m finally getting morning sickness, good God you’ve answered my prayers!


I began to feel so unwell, I couldn’t get up off the pew. I knew if I got up I’d collapse. I broke out into a cold sweat. As I knelt forward I could see tiny droplets on the back of my hand.  I seriously thought I was going to either throw up or collapse in a heap if I moved. My primary concern at this stage was embarrassment. I can’t collapse in front of the whole church. Oh my God am I actually fainting? I thought fainting in pregnancy was an old wives tale and all I could picture was Kirsten Scott Thomas pretending to swoon in ‘The English Patient’ so she could sneak away and shag the very shaggable Ralph Fiennes….a situation very different to the one I found myself in right then.

Everything went black for a second. When it came to standing up and shaking hands with your neighbour as a sign of peace, I was heading towards the floor and I didn’t care. The two ladies turned to shake hands with me and found a gap.

Thankfully the Lovely Lady on my right clicked something was up (not like the woman on my left who pretended not to see me) and took me outside. Several other lovely ladies saw the commotion and flapped around me – they got me a chair and a glass of water and I put my head between my knees til I felt better. “Oh the colour is back in your cheeks now dear!” said the Lovely Lady. “When I saw your white face inside I knew this girl wasn’t well!”. I admitted I was pregnant and she told me her own story of exactly the same thing happening to her in a butchers 40 years ago. “I was pregnant with my eldest in the pram and I just went exactly like you and thank God there was a Lovely Lady who looked after me, but here I’m rattling on now, how are you feeling now dear?”.

She was so kind she even drove me home as I was a bit too shaky to drive. My shocked mother later told me the same thing happened to her but in a department store and she had no Lovely Lady to come to her rescue. Here’s to Lovely Ladies. God bless them all.

I’m 11 weeks 1 day today and still flat as a pancake. Still feeling very tired and queasy in the evenings. And smells – don’t talk to me about smells. I was chatting to a young man at a digital expo in the city last night and nearly keeled over from his cigarette breath. My next appointment with my GP is this coming Monday. Hopefully she’ll arrange another scan for me very soon. I really need the reassurance after last time. How do I know it hasn’t given up the ghost in there? If it’s growing at the right rate? It’s always at the back of my mind.

After what we’ve been through over the years with IUIs, IVFs, miscarriage, cysts, Frozen embryos, it’s hard to accept anything as a given. We’re so used to failure we expect it now. The legacy of infertility. For anyone going through the horrors right now, my advice is to stick at it, never give up hope, no matter how devastated and heartbroken you are.

You never know what’s around the next corner.

Talk soon.