It’s a sunny afternoon in January and as I am leaving a particularly productive meeting in the centre of town, I feel the urge for the nearest public convenience area. ‘This is daft’ I mutter to myself .. ‘ I only went half an hour before the meeting’. This however, is no ordinary urge for bladder control; the dull ache which accompanies the (very) early stages of pregnancy are ominously present and niggling away at my consciousness as I aim for a random McDonalds to borrow the loo. ‘ It’s no good,’ I mutter to myself whilst washing my hands ‘ Boots it’ll have to be before I leave town’. The pregnancy section is calling and the vast plethora of digital and standard test sticks are about to assault my senses once more. I toddle off pensively to the chemist, mulling over the possibilities as I go. We’d planned another baby (already in our forties and enjoying the trials and tribulations of life with two young boys), but the reality is sinking in a little bit too rapidly as my heart is pounding in front of the ‘Clear Blues’ and ‘First Responses’. As I’m choosing which test to go for, my mind is whirring with questions… “what if it’s positive?”, “can we cope with another one?”,”we really wanted this, so why am I scared?”, “what will the kids think?” etc etc, bumble, rumble, whirr….
Test chosen and safely home,I drink a pint of water and wait an hour impatient and nervous. Half of me is excited beyond belief at the prospect, the other half is absolutely terrified and shaking from the inside, out.
Finally, it’s time and I head for the bathroom. I get on with the task and cross my fingers that it’s positive although I have absolutely no idea why!
Three minutes it says on the box… I wait thirty seconds and can’t wait a second longer. Peeking behind the fingers over my eyes, the little digital egg timer is turning away there; still trying to make it’s calculations and tormenting me to distraction in the process. I look away but then see a flash of wording on the screen out of the corner of my eye.
Heart jumps again. I look tentatively and the answer is….. Pregnant. 2-3 weeks.
OH MY LIFE!!!!!!!! It is! It really is!!! Oh my good heavens! Now what?! What’s my better half going to say? I know he’ll be pleased, but what else will he say? Will he be shocked, excited, nervous? What?
I hurriedly take a photo of the result and send it to him. Immediately the phone rings and he’s animatedly enthusing at the other end; excited, happy and triumphant. I needn’t have worried about anything as we instantly start nattering excitedly, preparing ourselves mentally for the prospect of becoming a family of 5….. or so we think..!