Optimistic True life
I thought my unborn baby was the cause of my new symptoms, but the reality was not what I had imagined...
Helen Wright, 40, from South Staffordshire
Giving the last camping peg a final hit, it was a surprise that we’d managed to secure the tent without having a bicker.
Exploring the great outdoors was something that me and my hubby Chris, now 39, loved to do.
Chris couldn’t keep still – so we made sure to fill our weekends.
Anything from going out for food, cinema trips to drinking and dressing up with our friends.
Not only that, but we managed to get quite the reputation.
We’d be the first ones on the dance floor – having a boogie.
We were just a young couple who truly made the most out of life.
Which was heightened when we had our son Oliver, now nine.
Going on holidays together, we had the perfect family.
And then, in late 2015, we were lucky enough to fall pregnant again – even if it was a total surprise!
Finding out that we were expecting another boy, I imagined all the muddy kits and football I’d have to get involved in.
With everything smooth sailing, the pregnancy went by in a breeze.
I never really had any bad sickness or cravings.
However, I did notice that I’d developed a subtle tremor on the left side of my body.
Whenever I went to cook dinner or put Oliver to bed, my left hand would shake.
‘It looks like your baby is pressing on a nerve,’ the midwife said.
The tremor was just another pregnancy symptom.
However, after giving birth to George in October 2016, the tremor didn’t go away.
That’s strange, I thought.
‘Keep a diary and we will see if it continues,’ the doctor advised.
Only, after two months, I was referred to a consultant.
By this point, my left hand would shake uncontrollably.
From trying to hold up the kids’ picture books to doing my bra clasp up, everything was a challenge. After having a scan at Royal Stoke University Hospital, the neurologist set up a phone call to discuss the results in June 2017.
He wouldn’t tell me anything serious over the phone, I thought.
Chris was in a work meeting, so I had the kids on my own at home.
Putting Oliver, then two, in his cot for a nap, and placing George in his little bouncer, I waited for my phone to buzz.
‘I’m really sorry to say this, Helen. You’ve got Parkinson’s,’ the consultant revealed.
Without saying anything, I quickly hung up.
I was gobsmacked. That’s what old men get, I thought. Not people like me. I’m 32.
I didn’t know anyone
