Two days later and another pregnancy test done. Just to be
sure. I ran out to the bathroom, filled my little pot and dipped the stick in.
Wait for five minutes. I checked it over and – yes – thank goodness – the two
little pink lines have appeared. Phew! Yes! Still pregnant.
It has been like this for the whole week, and this is the
week I found out. I always imagined the moment when I first found out I was
pregnant being such a magical time, where I got really excited and looked
forward to seeing the changes that the little bean would be going through each
week and seeing how my body would change. How exciting would that be! Well, the
day finally came this week and – yes – initial delight as the room was filled with
elated shrieks, hugs with husband and jumps of ecstatic-ness (if that could be
a word)…followed by sheer panic.
Suddenly all of these questions started
forming in my mind: What if I miscarry? What if there’s a problem? How would we
deal with a loss? A particular worry has been that my mum recently told me she
had sticky blood syndrome and that I may develop it later in life. The plan was
to get tested for it, but now that I’ve found out I’m the big ‘P’ they won’t
test me for it because the results might not be accurate. Another worry to add to the list. Oh dear. Now that I’ve
found out I’m pregnant, it’s not as simple as I imagined. It’s like time has just stopped
and I’m waiting for every hour, every minute to go by because every day is like
a slow journey of torture as I wait for that impending scan, hoping and
wondering if everything is all okay down there.
Usually, when I’m feeling a bit low or worried in some way,
I tend to spend an evening at the end of a hard week having a few drinks with my
husband or friends, or call a friend to talk something through. But no. I can’t
do that right now, the former for obvious reasons and because, well, I don’t
exactly want to tell friends and family that I’m pregnant yet. Because I think
it would be worse if I told them, they then get excited and – I know I
shouldn’t think negatively but it happens – I then have to tell them a few
weeks down the line that, actually, I’ve miscarried. I just don’t know if I
want to take that road.
But then, if we didn’t let them know, the heartache of
miscarriage would just be too much to bear kept a secret between us – we would
definitely need support in that circumstance. And so it is that I am absolutely
scared sh**less – you just don’t realise it when you’re seeing a friend or a
relative go through the journey of pregnancy. All of the emotions and fears that
are going through their minds. All you can think about is how wonderful it is
for your friend, and yet, it is not until you fall pregnant yourself that you realise just how daunting and scary
it is.
