The day that changes your life…

 

 

So you’ve found out you’re expecting?! Honestly, from the bottom of my heart, congratulations! You have a little person growing inside you that’s equal parts you and your other half. Let’s think about that for a minute… A little person! Equal parts!! A mini you! Exciting indeed! Why am I yelling?!

 

So, where were you when you found out? I have this romantic scene play out in my mind when people tell me they’re pregnant. Them and their partner hand in hand standing in a pristine white bathroom. They see the result and both begin to cry happy tears and leap into each other’s arms because all their dreams have come true. I was in a fairly derelict public toilet with a pee stick in one hand and a packet of smokes in the other. How do you come by having, what seems like, two completely opposite products in your hands? I had given up smoking two weeks prior because, well, I ain’t getting any younger and apparently they can kill you. Damn them for being so deliciously smoky…But I’d had a rough day and I was absolutely fanging.

 

The pregnancy test was a “no-way-it’s-possible-have-to-prove-my-partner-wrong” whim after some smart arse comment he made when I got out of the shower that morning. I started whinging the day before about how I was starting to get period pain and after being on the pill for 10 years and recently coming off and how I wasn’t looking forward to the mood swings. When I refer to mood swings, I mean the types that would start out like the scene in the exorcist where that chicks head spins around and she projectile vomits and then end with a snap shot of the Ellen DeGeneres’ show. You know the 12 days of give always where she is just so nice everyone in her audience gets a new car for turning up? That’s like me, minus the cars but with all the intent… Anyway, the tail end of my conversation with my partner was about how tender my boobs were. His smart arse comment was “they’re also a bit bigger… I think you’re pregnant and you should go buy a test.” Such a smart arse. There’s no way. Of course I laughed like is just seen a cat compilation clip on YouTube but it planted a seed that grew into an annoying thorn in my side till at lunch time I succumbed to this thought and got my butt down to Coles.

 

Now we’re back to the pee stick and the packet of smokes. Not sure what compelled me to do the test first because I already had the plastic wrap off the smokes but as I stared at the dirty floor and used syringe bin (a real highlight of my life not unlike the last time I drank Tequilla but that’s another blog completely) while I waited for the three minutes to pass, I couldn’t help but wonder… What if it is positive? I’m 28, that’s an ok age, right? I’ve been with my partner for 4 years, that’s Long enough, right? I like having tits that are bigger and a bit more perky. Yeah. I could give it a go.

 

Then it happened. It was like that scene in Bridget Jones’ diary where her boss catches her on a personal call. Cut to a picture of Renee Zellwegers face looking a bit awkward and the word “fuuuuuuuck” taking up the whole lower part of the screen. The test was positive. I was having a baby. You know the couple in the pristine white bathroom crying their happy tears? Yeah that didn’t happened at all. I walked into my house, pee stick in hand and didn’t have to open my mouth at all to my partner. Cut to a picture of my partners face looking a bit awkward and the word “fuuuuuuuuuuck” taking up our whole lives at that moment. Cue sappy and cliched saying… The real journey started from this moment. Needless to say the smokes went in the bin.

 

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