The Beginning

 

12/8/2010

Today is the third day that I have known about me being pregnant. I am writing this in order to almost work out how I feel about this. I had been due my period two and half weeks before last Monday, and it still hadn't arrived. I wasn't worried, I had been religious with taking my pill. So when I took the first pregnancy test with Aunty Claire at work a week after I hadn't come on and it came up negative, there were no surprises. But your father was still a little concerned, perhaps because he hadn't seen the results for himself, so we went and bought another two tests. I did one of them that evening, which again came up negative, and then one the next morning, as apparently the results are more effective first thing in the morning, Negative.

A weekend later, I began to feel a little strange. Your Uncle Danny had just moved out of the house in Firhill Road, and taken Tara his dog with him, so I had decided to completely gut the house and clean every nook and cranny. So we went shopping on the Saturday so I could stock up on every cleaner known to man. We stopped off in Mcdonalds for a bit of lunch, and your father had a burger that was out specially for the summer. It had rosemary on it, and that was all I could smell. And then when he did one of his colossal burps and blew it my way (as he has a habit of doing, tramp) I nearly gagged. Now, this might not seem very strange, but to me it was. I am used to Chris' bad habits, and burping in my face is the least of my worries when it comes to him, so I knew that it had to be something about the smell that was
making me feel queasy. The problem is, I'm quite keen on rosemary.

Fast forward to the next day when Chris was at golf and I was hitting the house like
a nuclear bomb in order to clean it, and there I am, sitting on the sofa feeling light headed and sick. To me, this just read that something was up.

So off I went to work on the Monday, and just because I wanted to be double sure,
I asked Chris if we could buy another test that evening. Hometime came, and we picked up the same pack of two tests that we had done the week before. We went home, and started rustling up some fajitas (the ones with the crispy chicken, mmmm) and I nipped up to the loo to go test myself.

The first thing Chris knew was that I was calling him to come upstairs. The next thing he knew was me confronting him with a test, a face that read deer and headlights, and two red lines. One dark, strong line, the other faint, but unmistakably there. Not knowing how to interpret this, I took a photo on my iphone, and sent it to Donna., who immediately called me to let me know that judging by the photo she would say I most definitely was pregnant. Now, unbelievably, this still hadn't quite registered in my pretty little head, and I was just under the impression that we needed to clear this up. Donna rang a GUM clinic who said that the best option would be to go down and get tested. This was probably when I first started to get the heeby jeebys.

We arrived at the clinic about twenty minutes later (no, I wasn't mucking around) only to be told that we were in for at least an hour and a half's wait and then we couldn't actually be seen because a) neither of us lived in Beckenham, and b) I wouldn't want an abortion if I was pregnant (which I obviously wasn't, you know). But they advise us that the test they used was actually a shop bought one called Clearblue, and they used it because it was as accurate as a doctor's test. So back to Sainsbury's we went.

Twenty minutes later, fresh from Sainsbury's and I'm perched on the loo nattering on
incoherently, with Chris kneeling in front of me over the test, when he interrupts me with an 'Er, babe….'. I look down and in stark electronically displayed digits: Pregnant. 2-3 weeks.

The next half an hour went past in a bit of a blur. I distinctly remember bursting into tears. I remember not being able to breathe. I remember sitting on the toilet, then on the bed, then standing in the bedroom. Christ knows what Chris was doing at this time. I think he was trying to calm me down for a bit of it. I think he was sitting in abject fear of what I might do next for part of it also. I don't ever think I've seen his eyes as wide as saucers before. Apparently I rattled on about having to get used to wet tissue at one point too. The usual things.

I don't know why I was always set on never having an abortion. Perhaps it had something to do with my childhood, and perhaps it had something to do with the way that I have always seen children being thrown away and not cared for by the very people that created them. But ever since I was a young girl I knew that I would never see abortion as an option when I fell pregnant. This is probably a bit of a shock for a woman who is absolutely petrified of being pregnant and could quite possibly fall on the floor out cold right now at the thought of giving birth, you know, getting you out of my hoo hah… Jeez.

But that was that. And Chris knew it. That was not to say that I didn't give him the option of throwing it out there, and saying that he categorically 100% was not ready for this at all, and then I might have given it a thought (lies, but you had to appease him, you know?). And luckily enough, he pretty much said that he didn't really see it as an option either. So we made up our mind that you were sticking around, and you weren't going to anybody else.

And then came the challenge of trying to tell the nearest and dearest. I shall try to break down reactions by name.

Grandad Mark – After checking that we weren't going to go ahead with any other options… excitement and Jamaican shouting about greeting you with 'Wat'em Granchile…'.

Grandma Jean – Apparently a big grin… (I waited outside… yeah, yeah… wimp) followed by declaring she couldn't wait to go shopping.

Aunty Chloe – Screaming. A lot of it.

Uncle Mark – Errrr… You're gonna be a mum. You shitting it?

Uncle Jack – Yesss! I'm an uncle – erm not quite yet Jack.

Aunty Sarah and Johnny – I think Sarah dropped her cutlery. We completely disrupted their film too.

Aunty Karen – I distinctly remember her being not very happy that she'd lost her
drinking partner, but then she realised how much shopping and stuff she could
do, so she was smiling.

Aunty Claire – Cried and sat down on the floor. Then got excited, then stunned, then excited, then stunned…

There were reactions from others too, but Chris has no clue that I have told these
people so far, so they shall remain anonymous at present and I will tell you all about them at a later date!