Pregnancy SOS: A diary of a first time mum to be

The results are in..

I’m still sat on the toilet.

I have no idea how long I’ve been here, but I do know that I’m now freezing my t**s off, so I’m assuming that I’ve been here a while.

I keep looking down at the pregnancy test in my hand, staring at the two little lines, bold as brass in bright pink in front of me.

My mind has been reeling since I dared myself to peek at that tiny little pee soaked stick; a million thoughts all running around my brain and merging together in one big confusing, yet colourful mess.

I’m thinking about small children crawling around our living room floor, battling the dogs for a toy that could rightfully belong to either dog or child, however both want that specific toy at the same time and the result is complete chaos.

I’m also thinking about the last month of near constant vomiting, how horrific and draining it’s been and wondering how the hell I’ll cope with that for another God knows how many months; I’m thinking about the price of nappies, cream, bottles and dummies and how far our wages will go in terms of feeding us, the dogs and a baby that, if is anything like me and Gaz (and we can safely assume it will be), will be a genuinely hungry child a lot of the time. I was also thinking, somewhat shallowly, about the fact that I’m going to put on a considerable amount of weight in not a lot of time, and wondering how the hell I’m going to lose it again and tone up before our wedding.

Oh God! The wedding!!

Will I have given birth before the wedding?? I don’t particularly want to say ‘I Do’ while heavily pregnant to be honest – when I imagine my wedding day, I imagine having a glass of Prosecco and orange juice after a nice, continental breakfast while my hair is being styled and I’m being thoroughly pampered. And I can’t do that while I’m pregnant.

I’m still shaking, but in all honestly, I’m not sure if that’s due to the shock or if It’s because I’m so cold, my toes are turning a funny shade of blue.

With so many random thoughts all mashed up into one giant mess, I don’t know what I’m thinking, or what I’m feeling (other than the fact that I should seriously consider pyjamas in the future)

Obviously part of me was aware of this possibility happening after the conversation me and Gaz had last night, but as I’ve quickly found out, there is a monumental difference between speculation and cold hard evidence that you can hold in your hand. At this point, it occurs to me that I’m still holding this pee filled stick in my hand, so I sigh deeply and put it on the windowsill while I try to grab a hold of my feelings.

I know for a fact that despite being shocked, I’m far from devastated by this; as I pull apart my thoughts one by one, I think of mine and Gaz’s future with a little one in tow, I imagine all the little day trips, family outings and fun times we have ahead of us and I smile. Yes, I’m definitely happy about this.

I also think of the many, many dirty nappies, the temper tantrums and the emotional breakdowns that are ahead of us, and even though that removes the smile from my face, it doesn’t change the way I feel about the little bean growing in my stomach.

Regardless of knowing that I’m happy about this, and that it’s a good thing, I think about the dull ache that is lingering in the back of my brain – the ache that gives away the fact that I’m completely terrified; after all; this is big, this is very, VERY big. And oh my God; I need to tell Gaz.