When I went to my doctor worried that my aching boobs might be breast cancer, she asked me if I was pregnant. The look on my face said it all; “Pregnant?! Err… I don’t know.” She kindly informed me that aching boobs were a classic early symptom of pregnancy and promptly told me to go off and buy myself a pregnancy test. Whichever way the result went, I would be back. Either to commence the pregnancy procedure or to further examine my aching boobs.
Well, now that the seed had been sown as it were, things started falling into place. The signs had been everywhere; the excessive tiredness over Christmas, the aversion to alcohol, the smelly wee, and of course, my aching tits! I couldn’t believe that it hadn’t occurred to me before. What a muppet! On the one hand, I was a tiny bit excited, but on the other hand I was absolutely terrified. The terrified part of me was a lot bigger and a lot stronger. Sure, I bought the test, but it was days before I finally found the courage to actually go through with it.
It was one day at lunch that I found the piece of strength that I needed to do this damn pregnancy test. Deep down I knew I was pregnant, I was indulging in pure denial. And I knew that by doing the test, I would finally have to admit that yes I was pregnant. It was not news I was ready to face. Quite simply, I wasn’t ready to have my life completely turned upside down. I still had a load of shit to do for gods sake!
So, after lunch, I did it. Even though I was expecting it, that little blue stripe came out of nowhere and kicked me right in the guts.
I felt sick and promptly burst out crying. I had no idea why. I think it was my happy-go-lucky life freaking out and letting me know in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t happy at being ditched.
I sloped off to my office to stare out the window for a bit. My boyfriend and I both worked from home at the time, so after having stared out a good few clouds, I called him into my office. Needless to say, we didn’t get much work done that day.
Oh Shit! I’m pregnant!
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!!!
I’m pregnant! Bollox!
I think my head was going to implode. Or explode. Either would have been fine. There were so many questions exploding in my head it was like bonfire night.
For a start I was in the early stages of setting up a business. I wasn’t an employee anymore. No easy-ride-cushy-maternity leave for me! And if I decided that I fancied a job after all, what would be the chances of getting a job when you’re pregnant? You’re on the shelf already then aren’t you?
And then my guy. Did he want kids? What if he didn’t? Then what? Would I be a single mum?
And who would help me and be my support. I can count my family with the fingers on a leper’s hand…I lost my mum to cancer 5 years ago. Other than that there’s my bro and my dad and my aunt who’s in Paris. I was going to have to do this on my own….
I felt quite sick. Did I? Really? Or is this morning sickness? Oh bugger!