I had the shock of my life in the early weeks of 2017, after only living in our own place for an amazingly short and sweet five days. I took a pregnancy test because my boobs were abnormally existential, my period late and my womb forsaking me with constant cramps that only went away with a 6-pack of cider.
And, much to my disbelief, two mocking pink lines showed up. Denial was my first reaction, because how could I possibly be pregnant when I was so unprepared and oblivious to the parallel universe of mum life? But nope, despite my inability to even look after myself, my doctor confirmed that “Congratulations, you and your husband are pregnant!”
Firstly, what husband? I have a boyfriend but not a husband and my life was rebelliously veering off plan. And secondly, who the hell thought it was clever to allow me to raise a baby? I don’t believe in God, but if there is one then he’s not doing a great job.
So, despite a few mental breakdowns in the weeks following (that I’m convinced have finally stopped, however I still cry at anything slightly emotional- especially when we’re out of peanut butter), I’ve now realised how amazing the journey I’m embarking on can be. I’m now almost 17 weeks pregnant with my little avocado man (that’s his apparent size right now) and regardless of the multitudes of articles that warn you motherhood is similar to hell, I’m getting really excited and impatient to meet our little man. Stay tuned and please excuse the sudden interest this page shows to all things pregnancy and motherhood!