We found out we were pregnant on January 12th 2015. Getting pregnant was easy – I stopped taking the pill, we had some sex (well, duh, who do you think I am, the Virgin Mary?) and a few weeks later, 2 pink lines appeared.
Keeping quiet until the 12 week mark, that was not easy.
Have you ever had good news you can’t share with anyone? Chances are if you’ve had a kid, yes, you’re well aware how this works. It’s really hard. It’s like when someone tells you not to think about bananas, then all you can think about are bananas.
It’s lying to people about why you’ve quit smoking. Making excuses for why you’re walking to work every day when your previous form of exercise was walking to the bakery to get a pie and a coke. It’s trying to keep your game face on when you bled the night before and you don’t know if the baby growing inside you is still there. It’s staying quiet when you’ve bled through your pad on your walk to work, and you’re trying to focus on your emails but you’re counting the minutes until your partner picks you up to take you to an emergency ultrasound.
It’s being a boozehag and now hiding that you’re not drinking. Calling the pub before you head off to lunch with your colleagues and planning subterfuge with the bar staff. It’s ordering a vodka, soda and lime, then keeping the girls distracted with inane conversation so they don’t realise the barman omitted the vodka.
It’s not being able to come up with an excuse fast enough when your colleague asks for a taste, and breathing an internal sigh of relief when she proclaims it’s ‘yum’ and orders one for herself, trying not to laugh when the barman catches your eye and winks. It’s hiding a cup behind your computer screen and pouring out your glass of 4pm Friday wine when no one is looking, waving the glass around in conversation, casually declining a 2nd glass, then picking your moment to sneak to the kitchen to empty the cup down the sink.
It’s having your cousin turn up, all the way from Brisbane, with smiles, hugs and 3 bottles of expensive wine. Talking, laughing, eating and pouring said delicious wine out onto the grass when he wasn’t looking (sorry Czahn!). It’s having your mum call to ask what you’re up to and replying with the usual ‘nothing’. It’s looking at your partner and smiling a secret smile that only the two of you understand.
And it’s a nervous wait to hit that magical 12 week mark, that first milestone where your chances of miscarriage are low and you can finally tell your family the news they’ve been waiting the past 8 years to hear.