In the hospital waiting room there’s a hand on my knee. I’m sweating. I don’t want to be here, the lights are too bright, it’s too hot, there’s a funny too-clean-smell and the seats are sticky. A poster on the wall reminds me how to give first aid when someone has a seizure. An electronic board beeps above us, a name flashes up, but it isn’t mine. My head spins. I grab that hand and hold on tight, it’s warm and dry against my clammy one. Big fingers return my grip and an arm loops over my shoulder. “It’s OK” he says “Remember we’re on our date-night!” I look up and meet my husband’s serious eyes, I snort with laughter “I love our dates” I reply. And suddenly my head stops spinning and the light’s not really too bright, if I take off my jumper I won’t be hot and I can face this new Doctor we’re waiting to see.
When I first met my husband I was having a particularly challenging time health-wise, it was before the blog and writing and before I understood my chronic pain. I went through a phase of regular Doctor appointments, they were so regular that they interrupted my free time, so my then boyfriend, now husband started coming along too. He called those appointments our ‘date-nights’. An idea which cracked me up and kept me going.
There’s not enough space on the internet I think for the myriad of little things my husband does for me everyday that help me be well. Helps make me the person I am and heal me from all that is past. Hand-holding, song-singing, hair-stroking all bestowed on me constantly, steadfastly, freely and I am amazed by this unfailing support.
Now as I find myself venturing further down my still new (4 month) pregnant adventure I think of all those women who face this path alone. Through choice, through loss, through work forcing their partners away, whatever the reason, I stand in awe of them, of you! I think I have had challenges in my life, however, nothing compares to facing my first pregnancy. Morning Sickness has made me feel more ill than I have ever felt before and I don’t think I’m a hypochondriac! Truly. It is an emotional and physical rollercoaster and without a partner…well I don’t even want to imagine.
The latest support role my husband has taken on is that of ‘Official Masseuse’. Now, some err less wholesome, shall we say, readers might think ‘how great, keeping the romance going! Bit of frisky action….!’ But let me just stop you right there!! A better title for this role would be ‘Official-but-not-sexual-Massesuse to emotionally-unstable-constantly-puking-sweaty-gaseous-whiney-pregnant-lady-with-massive-tits-which-you-cannot-sexually-touch-ever!’ It is, I assure you not a particularly attractive pastime. What it is however, is a display of total and utter love, kindness and selflessness. And it is getting me through the days more than any Doctor or prescription ever could.
The oil which husband-of-the-year is currently using for this purpose is almost as amazing as him and is, so far the only product I have found which is guaranteed to make me feel better! It is Weleda’s Stretch Mark Massage Oil and it is quite simply luscious! In pregnancy my sense of smell has gone crazy and I can’t stand any synthetic fragrances but somehow this oil is not only standable but so soothing. Made from a blend of essential oils Geranium, Lavender, Orange and extract of Arnica which eases inflammation. It is incredibly warming and comforting with a lingering fragrance that somehow takes the edge off my sickness too. I had no idea how rapidly my body would start changing and growing in pregnancy (I’ve gone up 3 bra sizes!) before I found this oil and before I had an ‘Official Masseuse’ my skin was getting dry and itchy but now it’s super soft and supple. It has now become my single ‘must-have’ product for pregnancy. My only complaint is I’d like a bigger bottle! So once again here’s to Weleda, a brand which never seems to fail me and here’s to partners. You both make the world of a pregnant lady a much better place!