So, looks like my due date is the 4th of January, if the calculator I found online is correct. Consider myself very fortunate to have conceived relatively easily, as this is only our second month of trying (first month I thought you ovulated just before your period - doh! I've spent decades trying to avoid getting pregnant, so it's a bit of an adjustment actively trying to do so), but I’m 38, so I gather medical type people consider me geriatric. Did one of those super sensitive early tests six days before my period was due and it was negative, so I’ve been merrily stripping paint from window panes with a heat gun, thinking it would be okay to do so as I wasn’t pregnant and that we’d try to conceive again next month, and then my period didn’t turn up. Will probably have a baby with three heads now, as there's sure to have been lead in the paint.
I was about four days late when I tested and the big old cross couldn’t have been clearer. Even though we were trying, am a bit shell shocked. But also hugely relieved we don’t seem to have fertility problems, despite leaving it so late. Also, I’ve been deranged since last Thursday, so it’s almost a relief to know that it’s the pregnancy and that I’m not utterly incompetent. I’ve been pretty tired, but that’s not unusual, with the hours I work. The utter lunacy started last Thursday when I caught the wrong train and, instead of the fast train to Lewisham, I discovered I was on the train to Hastings, but only when the conductor came along and told me I couldn’t use an Oyster card and that the next stop was High Brooms. Had never heard of High Brooms before, lovely though it may be, and it took me two hours to get back to Charing Cross. I swear the board had said the 17.11 was from platform 5, and I got on the train at platform 5 at 17.09… It’s like the universe was playing tricks on me. Felt like such an idiot, but the conductor was a champ and didn’t fine or charge me, as he said it was clearly an honest mistake. Totally missed the house viewing I was on the way to, but my beloved got there in time and gave my apologies. THEN, last Friday, the day after the High Brooms detour, I had a day’s holiday, as I was planning to do more DIY and repaint the windows I’d been stripping, but the day went awry when I managed to drop my iPhone down the loo (‘after' not ‘before', if you get my drift) and then, after calling my beloved, distraught and weeping and verbally beating myself up while begging him not to say 'I told you so' in case he was considering doing so and God knows what other overwrought nonsense, he ordered me back to bed and banned me from using ladders or power tools as I was clearly a danger to myself and others. Saturday I got up early and did the test and it all made sense, but the emotional roller coaster continues. I’m so stupid and clumsy and weepy – it’s like something out of The Exorcist. How am I going to avoid getting sacked or run over or stabbing someone for the next few weeks until I can start telling people? Have already had to tell several people who I’ve wept over, so they didn’t panic that I had terminal cancer or something, what with how I’ve been carrying on and how out of character this is. How the f* am I going to get through the next few months? This can’t be right, can it? How does it make sense for mother nature to make me such a liability right now when I need to keep this foetus safe? What on earth can I do to stay sane? It's terrifying feeling so out of control.
Anyway, apologies for the long post, but I'm going nuts here and I'm only four weeks in.