Written January 2016:
The main reason behind setting up this blog is last month, in
December 2015, I found out I was pregnant.
Now I will stop here and let you know that I will be
brutally honest all the time on this blog so if you’re sensitive I would just
stop reading now. Thank you for your time. If you’re ready, then I will
continue.
So, I found out I was pregnant.
After having a bit of a heavy Christmas pouring Hendricks
and Lemonade, Dark and Stormy cocktails and Prosecco down my throat I was
feeling quite delicate and thought nothing much of it. Self-inflicted, it was
what a probably deserved. However, the festive hangover seemed to last for days
and days and by the 29th of December I thought I obviously had
alcohol poisoning and was dying. I could not stop being sick and standing
upright was just not happening. By this point I was also due a visit from Mother
Nature so I thought all of these things were bundling together to punish me for
having too much festive cheer.
Only, Mother Nature never really came. I mean, she came, but
it was feeble and half arsed and not at all what I was used to. So after
another drink fuelled evening with my gal pals the idea was planted in my head
that maybe this wasn’t just a hangover.
The next day I ventured off into town to find a pregnancy
test. Now I don’t know how many of you have ever had to do that but isn’t it
just the worst?! For a start there are about a hundred options and the whole
time you’re stood there you just feel that you may as well have a big flashing
sign over your head that says “YUP- I DID IT!”
After making my selection; Superdrug’s own brand, just the
one test, I was convinced it would be negative, I made my way to the till. The
trauma continued, a greasy teenage boy raises his eyebrows at me. Could this
ordeal be anymore chick lit cliché?! Just let me buy my pregnancy test and
leave!
Said teenage boy scans through the test, purchase is made
and I run out the shop and vomit on the pavement. Brilliant.
A bit red faced but feeling defiant and actually quite
annoyed with the middle class women tutting at me as they walk past I made my
way home.
The moment of truth-
I pissed on a stick and there it was. Two little pink lines.
I was not having any of it. Time for a FaceTime call to my
mother.
“MUM WHAT DO YOU SEE IN THIS PICTURE!?”
I won’t transcribe our whole conversation but I’m sure you
can imagine how it went. To summarise; she was elated and I was in denial.
“Are you sure though mum, I think it’s not, I think this is
broken”
And there you have it. The story of discovering you’re
knocked up when you never even really wanted children.
As a twenty something married woman with a good career and a
peaceful home life, getting pregnant is not really socially unexpected. But to
me, it was the hardest thing to get my head around. Telling my husband later
that day was the best part of this traumatic day. He was so joyful as he has
always wanted children and for a little while his excitement was contagious. However
a further pregnancy test in the Asda toilets confirmed what I already knew,
this was real, it was happening to me, and I was just gonna have to get on with
it.
