Sunday, 14 January 2001
I had laughed at the Dr when he'd asked if I thought I might be pregnant. I had made an appointment to be put back on the Pill as I felt it was the sensible thing to do. Sensible compared to what I had been doing, assuming that a 41 year old would be incapable of making me pregnant, that his little swimmers were in fact more of the back crawl variety. Where exactly was I during the sex education lessons at school? Probably drawing my initials in a heart with whoever was flavour of the month.

"So where exactly are in you in your monthly cycle?" the Dr had asked. "Oh I'm almost a week late". "Do you think you could be pregnant?" "Oh no, I've been late before". Although admittedly never while I was having unprotected sex....hmmm. I'd literally skipped out of the surgery with my prescription unaware of what was going to face me in the next two days.

When I picked out that test, in that split second that I saw the line, I knew that no matter what happened my life had changed. If I hadn't have picked it out of the bin to show my friend then I would have had a couple of days of normality.

My boyfriend (although my mum would disagree with that title. "Boyfriend? He's hardly a boy!")took it well. He clasped his hand over his eyes and spent the rest of the night/early hours of the morning drinking Gin downstairs leaving me upstairs on my own, except I wasn't on my own anymore, was I?



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Bird on a Wire
Imagine Carrie from Sex and the City morphed with Bridget Jones and a baby thrown in for added entertainment – that’s me, the ever optimistic romantic looking for my Mr Big but already with child! Read my blog from the beginning where I find out I am pregnant following a brief fling with my much older male colleague and fast forward to where I am now, stressed out working mum to my beautiful 10 year old daughter wondering if love really does in fact exist at first sight.
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