I knew I was pregnant before I did the test. Bloody knew it. From having to get up in the middle of the night for wees (for once not caused by late drinking seshes) to MUST. EAT. EVERYTHING. NOW. WITH. ADDED. CHEESE. compulsion. Of course the unprotected sex thing a few weeks before didn’t occur to me once as the catalyst.
I did a test. It was one of those standard one line = negatory, two lines = your Mothercare Membership Code will posted out to you shortly jobbies. After getting the pee off my hand, and sitting on the toilet lid looking pensive, I definitely had one line, and another very, very faint second line, “OK,” I thought, “I’m not going on a journey up north to Duffland, then.” Until a friend pointed out that even though it was faint, it still counted as a line nonetheless*. “Oh… OH! This is gonna get interesting.”
Unplanned pregnancy, you say? Young mum? Not in proper relationship with the father? OMGZ HOW CAN YOU BE SO IRRESPONSIBLE?! I hear you hysterically shriek. My answer? Stuff happens. And that’s OK. Not everything works out to the grand Life Plan that girls my age seem to believe it will. Sorry to disappoint. Not for one nano second did I or do I think that my son was a mistake. He is a beautiful, life changing, life saving surprise.
Imagine the film Knocked Up, Katherine Heigel as a brunette, with a bigger bum, fewer neurotic siblings, with an additional side of commitment issues. Seth Rogan but less hairy and pathetic, and more tattoos. Pretty much sums it up, it all worked out in the end, and it’s OK that we did things a bit mixed up, I never liked conformity anyways.
Do you think plans are all they’re cracked up to be? Or do you like to see where life leads you? Answers on a postcard, pls. Or ya know, just that comments box down there will do, I guess.