Here's the Science bit...

After the heady excitement of learning we were to be parents, I had the joy of trying to separate the wheat from the chaff... the Info Dump of the Internet and unsolicited advice from childless friends who are sudden experts in pregnancy.

'Oooh you have to avoid peanuts!' (not true) 'prawns' (not true), 'alcohol' (not true- 2 units a wk), 'eat liver' (WRONG! infact too much iron can result in damage), to quote a few. Of course I had no clue, resulting in a frenzy of research on NHS sites to make sure I wouldn't hurt The Baby. (It still feels strangely alien to write with these previously unused words! I still prefer my old word, 'sprog').

This is despite the fact I had sailed through the first 3 months blissfully unaware I was, 'up the duff', and had been drinking, smoking and infact had been to an Orbital gig and danced my tits off all night. It's amazing how well-meaning friends can render a normally balanced and rational woman into a panic-stricken blob of ARRGGGHHHHHH.

Sod this. I've bought a Bloke's pregnancy book and new a First Time Mum book for me. Full of up to date science stuff.

Well meaning friends and total strangers beware.

I shall tell you to frack off.

GP & breaking the news

I phoned my GP on the Monday, explained I thought I was pregnant, and was priority booked for the next day.

Tuesday, having both left our workplaces early, Darren and I drove to the doctor's, nervous and excited. Dr C took me behind the screens to do a physical check, after sniggering while I advised I'd missed 3 mths & had sore tits, and hadn't put the two together.

The next thing I know is he's writing a mineral prescription for expectant mothers and telling me I needed to register my pregnancy with the Reception.

Then we're out the surgery door, confirmed expectant parents, and facing a ditzy newbie on the front desk who couldn't find the forms.

'Can you come back tomorrow?' she said, in that high pitched, authoritative yet panic-stricken voice that people have when they are trying to come across as knowledgable, but haven't got a bloody clue what they're doing.

'We'll wait while you have a look- we're not in a hurry', I reply, with a warmth that showed compassion and understanding for the newbie.

'Err...well I'm all by myself and I don't know where to look and...' sh

e blurted, now dropping the I Am Fine By Myself Honest tone and lapsing into the I Am Trapped Oh God What Do I Do manner of admission and quiet terror.

I must admit, Dear Reader, that instead of being my usual slightly-irked/disappointed and impatient self, I was abnormally relaxed and uber-understanding. Whoa. Darren and I left giving her assurances that it was fine and we'd return....and we pottered out of the GP Surgery on a fluffy cloud of serenity and giggles.

That night, and the following 4 nights, D and I just sat on the sofa, looking at each other and giggling.

We shared the news with family and friends, and loved every minute of it. Amazing to have happy news instead of all the saddness, bereavement and loss that we had seen and shared in our 8 yrs together.

We'd always fancied being parents, but sometime in the future. To be frank it had seemed so grown-up and scary. Life was just grand how we were pottering along. Parenthood was for other people.

Now, it had happened to Us, the Eternal Students.

It had turned our entire world upside down, and we were over the moon.

Surprise!

How our fridge used to be...

Greetings Earthlings (or just those from mysterious and elusive places, such as Wolverhampton).

This is the story of two 30 somethings journey/battle with coming to terms with pregnancy, other people's views and basically having a chance to warble on about experiences building up to the birth of their first child.

Two independent people who fell in love, lived in sin, married and got knocked up- and their reactions to how they change, and people around them change.

Meet Celia, the 38 yr old female, who, after yrs of refusing to marry, tied the knot with Darren, 15mths ago. It was a whirl-wind romance, resulting in a 'hasty' wedding (insert sarcasm here) in New York after being together only 7 years.

We dragged/invited our best pals Karen & Stef to be Chief-Bridesmaid and Best Man. And for years, together as partners, we enjoyed a life of gigs, festivals and freedom to do what we pleased, when we wanted.

Not 18 mths later, Celia (Hi everyone!), an intelligent degree-educated woman, took over 3mths to realise she was 'up the duff'.

British Education system, eh?!...

The Selfish Jeans - I can't get in them anymore...

Copyright FaeryNatasha

It was a few weeks ago, when Darren was having a horrendous migraine, that I nipped to the local Chemist in Asda to buy painkillers, & our world changed. Darren had made a quip the night before, that I may be pregnant, as I hadn't 'had the builders in/had friends over/hadn't been up on blocks' for a few months. I shall admit I wasn't even unduly worried or concerned, as I'd been irregular in the past.

To put his mind at ease, I bought a Digital Clear pregnancy test along with his Migralieve.

I returned home, made sure Darren was alright, gave him his tablets, then pottered upstairs to the loo. I was half-way through the pee, and realised I had nearly forgotten to use the pregnancy kit. I unwrapped and pee'd on the stick, then washed my hands, etc. I picked up the stick casually and glanced down.

My heart skipped a beat.

Jesus Christ.

It reads 'Pregnant. +3mths'.

I sat back down on the toilet, staring at this stick that had suddenly turned my world upside down, and into chaos. I felt like a ragdoll that had been stuffed inside a doll's house, being picked up and shaken around by the bonkers ADHD toddler from next door. But surprisingly & unexpectedly, kinda liking it.

I was pregnant.

We were pregnant.

I realised my bum was going numb, as were my thighs, probably as I'd sat straight back down onto the toilet. I'd sat for 20 minutes and my lower limbs were losing blood supply.

Oh My God. What will Darren think? he's poorly- should I tell him? Will it make his migraine worse? Will he take it okay? I'm still in shock with a weird smile creeping into my face that I never thought I would ever have...

Steeling myself, I knew I couldn't keep this from him. Thoughts of GPs and confirming and tests and scans and bans on food and guidelines and a whirl of random thoughts whirred through my head, as I walked down the stairs, stick in hand. I pushed the lounge door open, looking at Darren laid out on the sofa, in pain. I took a deep breath and stood in the middle of our cramped living room...

The Bloke's Reaction:

Well it cured his migraine.