The Parenting Diaries; The First Trimester

When Is the Right Time, Really?

Is there ever a ‘right time’ to start a family? My partner and I had always spoken about having children and discussing the right time for us to start trying. The conclusion to these conversations was always the same: we can start thinking about children when we get a bigger house, move out of London, or are more settled into a career. Although that was our loose plan, there was no definitive timeline on when we would move house or even consider moving out of London. We always found a reason for not being ready to do these things. So, I suppose the answer to when is the ‘right time’ to start a family is, well, there is never a right time! 

For us, the time to have a baby came very unexpectedly in February this year, when those two pink lines appeared on a stick. Rebecca and I have been posting on this blog for around 18 months. As professional nannies with master’s degrees in psychology, we wanted to create a platform to inspire and educate parents and caregivers on the wonderful world of child-rearing. While neither of us was a parent ourselves, we had years of experience supporting families and helping raise little ones.But now, I’m stepping into a new chapter: parenthood! Our baby is due in early November,so we have a long way to go before our journey in parenting takes full force. Until then, I wanted to start a new series of posts titled ‘The Pregnancy Diaries’. 

This series will be an honest, unfiltered look at pregnancy—the good, the bad, and the definitely-too-much-information bits. So, buckle up and join me for this wild, wonderful, adventure into parenthood!

A Bump in the Road, Literally

 Our journey so far has been a whirlwind of emotions and challenges. The beginning of this pregnancy wasn’t quite the whimsical, exciting experience I’d always imagined. We’ve had a slightly rough and terrifying few months. To jump right in, we were diagnosed very early on with a chorionic bump. If you’ve never heard of that before, you’re not alone—I hadn’t either. But for those who are unfortunately familiar with it, I wanted to share our experience here in the hope that it brings some reassurance to anyone going through something similar.

When we were first told about the chorionic bump, we were firmly advised not to Google it under any circumstances. So, naturally, the moment we left the scan, we Googled it. It didn’t take long to understand why we were warned. The limited information out there describes it as a “rare abnormal condition of the gestational sac” and often links it to an increased risk of miscarriage. Even more worrying, some of the sources suggested that having more than one chorionic bump makes miscarriage almost inevitable. What I haven’t mentioned yet is that at that first scan, we were told there weren’t just one, but two chorionic bumps.

So, after Googling what a chorionic bump was and what it might mean for our pregnancy, I plunged into a deep dive - reading every birth forum, pregnancy thread, and scrap of research I could find on Google Scholar. I struggled to find clear information or real stories from people who had been through the same thing. It felt like we were in the dark about what to expect and what risks we might face. The scientific literature on chorionic bumps mostly paints a bleak picture, with a generally negative prognosis. Thankfully, my background in psychology means I know how to interpret research and data. So, even though I was still incredibly anxious about our baby’s future, I found a strange comfort in tearing through the studies, picking apart the flaws, and realising that much of what’s out there is limited, outdated, or overly pessimistic. In many ways, Google's grim outlook isn’t the whole story.

We’re now sharing our news publicly, which, as you might have guessed, means everything is going well so far and we have a very active, happy baby on the way. That said, I still think it’s important to talk about what we’ve been through. I hope that by sharing our experience, we can reassure others going through something similar, especially in those early, uncertain days.

I know I jumped straight into the doom and gloom, which is what much of this pregnancy has felt like up until now. But I also want to share all the beautiful, magical and nerve-racking moments we've had along the way. And the most logical place to begin is right at the very start.

The beginning of our story  

We started the year with a grand plan. I was due to begin my psychology career later in the year with a role at the Ministry of Justice. Before starting a family, we had always said we would move out of London to somewhere with a second bedroom and, hopefully, a garden. We planned to stay in our one-bedroom apartment for a couple more years, save some money, and then move to the South Coast. But, as we’ve quickly learnt, things don’t always go according to plan. Sometimes life takes an unexpected turn, and all you can do is go with it and make the best of what you have.

This pregnancy was not planned. Although we always planned on having children, it was not on this year’s to-do list. When we first found out about our little accident (I mean, happy surprise), the most-used phrase in our house for those first few weeks was, “Oh shit, we’re actually having a real baby this year.” We were both incredibly excited about this next chapter, but we were also full of worry and anxiety as we tried to get our heads around our new reality.

Once we were over the initial shock of becoming parents while living in a one-bedroom flat that barely fits two humans and our gang of pets, we took a moment to reflect on how lucky we actually are. We’re fortunate to own our home, which gives us some security and peace of mind, knowing we don’t have to worry about a landlord asking for the property back. We also feel incredibly grateful to be in a stable financial position.

A little while after we started getting a few positive pregnancy tests. OK, I’ll admit it wasn’t just a few. When I say “several,” I really mean ten. Fine, it was twenty-three. Yes, twenty-three tests. After that many, we both finally accepted the reality of the situation.

For me, though, even the first one was enough. It was the faintest line, almost invisible in natural light, but I knew it was there. I had a feeling I was pregnant before I even took the test. The day I got what I consider the first positive, we had gone out for dinner, and straight after eating, I felt…off. When I got home, something didn’t feel right. I still can’t quite explain it, but my body felt different, and I knew I needed to take a test.

The line on that first one was barely there, but I was convinced. I sat for ages holding it up to the lamp, taking photos, and still ended up thinking I had “line eyes.” I didn’t even tell my partner that I had taken a test that night; pregnancy tests had become a bit of a monthly ritual in our house thanks to our relatively relaxed approach to contraception, so he was used to me saying I might see a line.

The next morning, I took another test. It was a tiny bit darker but still very faint. I leave for work at 6:20am, and my partner is never awake then, so instead of waking him to show him the stick I’d just peed on, I took a photo and sent it to him. In hindsight, probably not the best message to wake up to before heading into the office.

Unsurprisingly, he was adamant there was no line and that I was just being paranoid. Later that day, I took another test at work, which looked exactly the same. I sent that one too, 98% sure I wasn’t imagining it, but again, he insisted there was nothing.

Knowing I wasn’t crazy, I sent the picture to my true other half, Rebecca. Like a true friend, she texted back one second later and agreed that there was, in fact, a second line! Rebecca, being Rebecca, has an app for everything. A minute later, I received a screenshot of the picture I had sent her, having been put through a pregnancy test detector app. Yes, that app really does exist, much to my disbelief.

After I sent the app results to my partner, he finally admitted that maybe there was something there after all. Over the next few days, the lines kept getting darker. Then I took my first digital test, and it came back positive. I left it on his bedside table, and a few hours later, I got a text that said, “I think we’re having a baby.” That was quickly followed by, “Maybe it’s wrong and your period will show up,” so clearly, he was still holding on to a little bit of denial. Thankfully, it didn’t last long. And since then, it has been magic watching his excitement grow more and more each day.

I mentioned earlier that this pregnancy came as a surprise to us both. We weren’t trying and hadn’t planned to start a family for a few more years.

Last summer, I had my contraceptive implant removed after nearly eight years and three implants. It had always been a reliable form of contraception for me, but towards the end, I started experiencing intermittent bleeding that would last for days or even weeks. After speaking with my doctor, we agreed that it was time to come off the implant.

We decided to wait a few months before trying anything new, to give my body a chance to have a proper period for the first time in years. After that period arrived, I realised I felt better without any contraception at all. I hadn’t felt particularly unhappy while on it, but once I stopped, I noticed a significant improvement in my mood and overall sense of well-being.

We settled on using cycle tracking as our method of contraception, as it seemed to be working for us. Around Christmas, though, I had started thinking about trying something more reliable. My main reason was that new work opportunities were beginning to appear after finishing my Master’s degree in December.

As a couple, we had decided that it was a good time for me to focus on the next step in my career while we continued to think about moving out of London in the next few years. But falling pregnant unexpectedly in February turned all of those plans upside down.

I’ll admit, when I first saw those two blue lines, I was upset. It felt like everything I had been working towards had been crushed in the space of two minutes. Looking back now, I feel disappointed that this was my initial reaction, especially given how much I have always wanted to be a mum. But we can’t always predict how we’ll respond to unexpected news.

I’ve always worked hard to achieve my goals. For the past two years, I juggled a full-time job while completing my master’s degree in psychology online, which, I’ll be honest, was harder than I expected. But in December 2024, I finally finished it and was excited to begin a career in the subject to which I’ve devoted the last eight years of my life.

Now that the dust has settled, I couldn’t be happier to be having a baby this year with my best friend. The career will always be there when the time is right.

I’m naturally quite an anxious person, so as soon as we got that positive test, I asked my partner if we could book a private scan for around the eight-week mark. I didn’t think I could wait until the twelve-week scan to determine if everything was going okay.

Getting the diagnosis

That scan felt like a lifetime away. Each day dragged, and even though I knew the best thing to do was relax and try not to worry, it’s hard to stay calm when all you have to go on is a stick you’ve peed on. Feeling the baby is still a long way off at that stage, so you have to trust that everything is progressing as it should.

Just as my anxiety had started to ease, my biggest fear came true. Every time I went to the toilet, I would check to make sure I wasn’t bleeding, and for a while, I never was. But around two weeks after we found out we were expecting, the bleeding started.

My heart immediately sank. The bleeding was very light and had started a few hours after we’d had sex, so to try and stay calm, I kept reminding myself that it might be the cause. Sure enough, when you search for early pregnancy bleeding, sex is listed as a common trigger due to the increased blood flow to the cervix. Reading this did ease my anxiety a bit, but when the bleeding continued the next day, still very light, I decided I should contact my GP for some proper medical reassurance.

I expected my GP to agree that the bleeding was most likely caused by sex and that there was nothing to worry about. She did agree, but she also wanted to refer us to the early pregnancy unit just to be safe. It was reassuring to hear that the bleeding was probably harmless, especially since there were no cramps, and it had stayed very light. Still, the referral for a scan made everything feel much more real and brought all my anxieties to the surface.

I got a call from the unit about two hours later, and they booked us in for the following Tuesday. Knowing the appointment had been arranged on a Friday, four days later, helped calm me slightly, as it suggested they weren’t too concerned. Even so, those four days felt incredibly long. Thankfully, by Sunday, the bleeding had stopped entirely, but I was still desperate for the scan to get some reassurance that everything was OK.

I think it’s important to highlight that our experience only reflects Chelsea and Westminster Hospital. My partner was allowed to come to each scan, and although they don’t provide printable scan photos, they let us take pictures on our phones, which we printed off ourselves in the Boots opposite so that we could keep them forever!

At every appointment, the staff were thorough and explained the entire process clearly. The first sonographer told us that she would be quiet at the start and wouldn’t show us the screen while checking everything. She reassured us that this didn’t mean anything was wrong, but that she needed to concentrate to ensure her assessment was accurate. That was actually really reassuring, especially since we were both feeling very anxious going into the appointment.

She checked my ovaries, cervix and the gestational sac, and then confirmed that there was a heartbeat. We saw our baby for the very first time. I knew we wouldn’t be seeing anything that actually looked like a baby yet, but I wasn’t sure what to expect. Honestly, it just looked like a line on the screen, but on that line was a tiny flicker of a heartbeat. I had never felt so relieved and excited.

Although everything looked as it should for six weeks of pregnancy, the sonographer said she needed a second opinion on something. Obviously, that is not what you want to hear. What made it worse was that the second opinion required a third. After a discussion, they suggested we might be looking at something called a chorionic bump.

Besides being advised not to Google it, we weren’t told much more than that. They also wanted us to come back in two weeks for a follow-up scan so they could monitor it. We left the appointment in the dark about what to expect. As we were leaving the ward, my partner turned to me and said he now understood why we were told not to Google it. He showed me his phone, and the main takeaway from what he had read was that we now had an increased risk of miscarriage.

The next appointment felt like it was a lifetime away. I spent each day expecting to find blood or feel cramps, but thankfully, that never happened. When the scan day finally arrived, my nerves were sky-high. Fortunately, they immediately found the heartbeat and showed us that we had a happy, healthy baby. The previous sonographer hadn’t recorded the exact measurements of the bumps, so this time they asked us to come back again in another two weeks to monitor their size. That meant another anxious two-week wait to check that everything was still going well. Luckily, I had two weeks off work, which helped the time pass a little more quickly. I kept myself busy, we had my mum’s wedding, and we began to share our little secret with our families. 

Sharing our news

Everyone expects you to wait until the twelve-week scan to share the news. But the idea of a "safe zone" is really just a myth. Statistically, the risk of miscarriage does drop each week and levels out around twelve weeks, but the truth is that something can happen at any time.

We started telling our family once we reached the eight-week mark. We initially felt a bit unsure about it and kept going back and forth, wondering if we should wait until we were officially out of the first trimester. But in the end, we asked ourselves, why wait?

There were many reasons we chose to share the news when we did. For one, we live in West London, and my family is in Hastings on the south coast. With busy work and personal schedules, it's hard to get down there as often as we’d like, so if we hadn’t told them then, it might have been weeks before we could. By that time, I would have been around fourteen weeks.

We also had my mum’s wedding coming up, and I’m not someone who usually says no to a drink, especially a champagne breakfast with my mum and sisters. We figured it might be a bit obvious if I was avoiding alcohol all week. As it happened, we dropped our dog off at my partner’s parents’ house on the way to the wedding, giving us the perfect chance to share the news with them. It was lovely to tell them they were going to be grandparents for the first time.

The following week was full of celebrations with my family, and we had plenty of moments to tell them about the news in a more personal way. After that, we started telling friends as and when we saw them. There were a few people I wanted to wait a little longer for, because of the ongoing concerns with the chorionic bump, but there were also several events coming up where it would have been difficult to hide. One of the big ones was a bottomless brunch for a close friend’s birthday!

Adjusting to the New Normal

At the time of writing, we are now 13 weeks along. We’ve had our 12-week scan, which went perfectly, and we finally feel like we can breathe a little and start getting excited about the future.

I’ve been incredibly lucky so far and have managed to avoid being sick or dealing with any severe nausea. What I experienced started around week seven and almost completely faded by week twelve. It hit hardest from about 3pm, which, as a nanny, meant it usually struck right in the middle of the school run. The worst of it would come once I got home around 7pm and would continue into the night.

The one upside to evening nausea is that you can usually sleep through most of it. On the occasions when I couldn’t, I managed it by drinking plenty of water and eating small amounts regularly, which really helped. What hit me more than anything, though, was the tiredness. From around six weeks, the exhaustion was unreal, and it still hasn’t completely gone. While it’s eased a bit now, I still find myself needing a quick nap most mornings. At its peak, I could easily have slept sixteen hours daily. I do love my sleep, but even I started to think it was getting ridiculous. Almost as soon as the tiredness came on, the insomnia followed. Now that I’m heading into the second trimester, I’m napping less during the day, but the insomnia at night is definitely picking up. Most nights, I wake up almost every hour, usually to go to the toilet, but sometimes I lie there tossing and turning. Eventually, I give up and head to the living room to hang out with the cats, while my partner sleeps peacefully through it all. Honestly, I’ll take a few sleepless nights over morning sickness any day. My mum had it until twenty weeks when she was pregnant with me, so I feel very grateful to have escaped that.

If you’re still reading, thank you for sticking with me. I promise not every post will be this long, but I wanted to document this part of my pregnancy in detail. My hope is that it brings some comfort to anyone navigating the uncertainty of a chorionic bump diagnosis, or simply to anyone looking for honest pregnancy stories. At the start of all this, I spent hours reading blogs, forums and websites, searching for someone who had been through something similar. I needed reassurance and understanding, and I hope this post has offered a little of that to you, too.

If you have any questions or want to chat about your own experience, feel free to message us on Instagram @pocketbook.parenting.