Two pink lines

14 Oct

So, I woke up this morning feeling pretty crappy.The Boy got home around 2am after his shift last night and I proceeded to have a big cry about some family dynamics that were ticking me off. Also, Ry’s grandpa’s funeral is today and I’m going to miss the old guy. He did really well to make it to 86,¬†despite things getting quite difficult for him. So while I’m not so sad about Bill passing on, I’m gutted for all the people he left behind who will feel the loss keenly.

Anyway, I took my temp as usual today, expecting it to continue its usual downward trend. It didn’t. I woke The Boy up to tell him. He didn’t want to know about it until at least 10am. I went downstairs to start peeing on sticks, despite telling myself it was the worlds most idiotic thing to do since my period wasn’t even late. And then, sitting there, determined as I was not to look, I saw a second pink line. A faint one. I nearly fell off the toilet seat.

Trailing pee sticks and toilet paper I bounded back upstairs, thrust said stick into the face of my beloved to see what the official verdicts was on my faint but very present second pink line. I was expecting medical Ry to take over and blow my dreams to dust, but no. Glancing casually at my stick he confirmed that it was not a maybe. It was a ‘Baby, that’s pregnant.’

I know it’s super early – my period isn’t due for another couple of days – but a positive is a positive. I know, I know. So much can go wrong – a chemical pregnancy, early miscarriage. All that is whizzing through my mind as I sit here in panicked shock, too scared to cough in case I squeeze the little poppy-seed out.

When The Boy finally got up he was in go mode – check the health insurance, call the doctor for a blood test to confirm, book in an ultrasound for next week. While I know we’ve still got a long way to go yet, it appears, as of now, that we’re going to have a baby.

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