Two little lines

A little while back I shared the news that I am with child. Pregnant, blooming, expectant. I am all those happy things. I have known for quite a while now and when we made the discovery many weekends back my first instinct was to share the news. With my family, my friends, my work mates, my readers, the barista at work, the guy who mans the cupcake stall at the markets. Basically everyone.


"Hellooo...there's a tiny speck of cells in my tummy right now that will – all things willing - grow into a baby!!!" Of course I resisted the temptation knowing it was far too early and completely inappropriate to go down that path. Particularly at the cupcake stall.


Instead I wandered around with this fantastic, invisible secret growing inside me. Pregnancy is many things but in the first few weeks, for me, it's nothing but a unique bundle of emotions; excitement, apprehension, wonder, love, fear, delight, disbelief. There is joy so close on the horizon but it is also precarious. Part of me wants to leap straight into the dream and imagine the perfect baby lying in my arms but there is another part that wants to wait before falling too far. It's a fluid and silent tug of war that dissipates slowly - to a point - as the weeks whiz by and scans confirm the dream is edging closer.


Seeing the first indicator of the life that might be – two little lines - took me straight back to the day when I discovered the tiny dot that is now Miss I. I couldn't help but relive the experience and marvel that, by comparison, this time around is far simpler. I doubt that will ring true in November but certainly the circumstances immediately surrounding the discovery were. By a loooong way.


Let me paint you the picture first time around. Mr G and I got married on a wintry Saturday in Australia before flying to England on the Tuesday. We'd left our jobs in Sydney and were going to live in Oxford for the next two years where Mr G had been offered a scholarship to complete his masters degree and play rugby. We had a whirlwind week in London with friends before jetting off to Croatia for our honeymoon. Three weeks later we returned and made our way to Oxford where we didn't know a soul. I had the names of two Australian acquaintances whom are now dear friends, but back then were strangers who just happened to be making their way just north of London too.


From the moment we arrived I felt yukky but put it down to the massive few weeks we'd just lived. After a week of this – with several instances of me battling episodes of nausea triggered by mild food - Mr G came home and casually mentioned he had a pregnancy test. I remember laughing and saying 'Ha imagine how much our life would change'. The 'Ha' was on me. 


Two lines emerged. Six positive tests later and many more Google searches to ascertain the chance of getting six false positive results (slim to none) I realised it was true. I was pregnant.


In itself it felt miraculous. I experienced some patchy health a few years ago and some of those issues had the potential to complicate falling pregnant. Before we left my doctor here warned us to prepare for a long road. It turned out that road was very, very, short for which we are eternally grateful. Nonetheless it was a daunting discovery given we'd both just left stable jobs and were living in a student flat on the other side of the world. Before we could even begin to digest it two days later Mr G went to Scotland on a rugby tour for ten days.


I was alone in an unfamiliar town, without a single friend, without a job, without a visa to get a job, without a clue what to do. And I was pregnant. My sister was only a few weeks away from giving birth to my first beautiful niece and I wanted to wait for that to unfold before sharing our news that a cousin might soon follow. 


I clearly remember going into a bookshop to peruse the pregnancy section. I eventually chose one and got an almost illicit thrill from handing it over to the cashier. He probably couldn't have cared less and might not have even noticed my selection but to my mind, after Mr G and myself, he was only the third person on the planet to know I was pregnant.


It was one of the strangest weeks of my life. So you can see why this time around - with stable employment, baby equipment, plans, friends and family nearby and even some experience - the discovery was considerably less daunting. Despite feeling no less extraordinary. 


Has your life ever surprised you or taken you in a different direction?