When I first discovered you, I was sitting on the loo. Holding a white stick I had just peed on and talking / blubbering to a bright pink line (you). I’m sure this won’t be the first time I embarrass you with stories of your early days. And for this, I apologise a thousand times in advance. (That should cover me for this diary to you at least).
So there I was. It was a Saturday, the first day of February (a nice easy date to remember, thank you baby). Your daddy had just gone to work – he works very hard for your mumma (and also for you, because we have talked about you even before you arrived) – and I was trying to get out of going for my monthly IPL treatment. It’s a painful, hair removing experience, IPL… which to call it that is kind of ironic given what ended up preventing me going (IPL isn’t safe when you are pregnant). So before having a shower I decided to do a home pregnancy test – as my period was late (ewww gross muuuum).
And I want to say that I already knew I was pregnant, and that when I did the test and saw it was positive that angels came out and sang, and I felt a pinch in my uterus, and that a whole new world opened up before me… but it didn’t. It kind of went like this:
An awkward opening of a plastic wrapped test stick, which I started to rip off with my teeth before I worried that could somehow contaminate the results (how, I don’t know) before I got a pair of scissors out of the drawer. Then an awkward holding of this stick in my pee stream, carefully counting “5 seconds” and wondering whether to do the counting with elephants or Mississippi or not… then I popped the cap on and proceeded to worry if I should hold it vertical or horizontal (as if one or the other meant your existing or not) and then – the moment. My pee whooshed up the stick and a bright pink line appeared in the window. That was you – you were so fast. Two lines indicate you are pregnant and the second line was a bit slower, but was definitely there (I later read that the second line might be more faint and that is normal). So then baby, I stared at these pink lines (the first, brighter line, being you) and just basically stared. For ages. Naked. On the loo.
I was in such shock I started to cry and I started to talk (to myself, or to you… I don’t think you were listening yet though)… and I said things like “oh my god” and “definitely two lines” and I would look closer and say, incredulously, “definitely TWO lines” again and again. And I put my hand to my tummy and I cried (a lot) and I said “but I don’t feel you baby.” And then I was worried that would hurt your feelings, so I quickly said “but I believe you are there baby, and no matter what I will protect you and keep you safe. You hang on in there.”
And I meant that, and will mean that for the rest of my life. And most likely beyond too – whatever beyond is (but let’s not get ahead of ourselves).
Then I got off the loo and quietly pottered about the house doing laundry and things and I kept going back to the bathroom to look at the pink lines – just to check you were still there. I did this dozens of times. Then I drank a pint of water in seconds and did a pee on another stick, and you were there again. And then I started googling “my pregnancy test is positive now what.” It was all very calm and it was just us.
By the time your daddy came home I had taken a photo of the first pee stick (the special one) and when he was unpacking his car I sent it to him. I sent it to him via a messenger app called Viber – as when I lived in London, and your daddy lived in Auckland, he would call me every day using Viber. It seemed cute, that our relationship began through Viber and that our parenthood would too. And baby, I saw his face when he got the photo and I thought he would cry, hug me, be at a loss for words – but he just looked blank and said “what’s this?” I thought, HONESTLY! It was clearly a pregnancy stick saying positive! But he was probably in a bit of denial and shock, like me.
You came so quickly baby – we’ve only been married 2 and a half months! You will be as efficient as your daddy is I’m sure. He had just got back from a shop where he was looking to buy a windsurfer. He had told the shop owner that he was recently married, and the shop owner said he ought to buy his windsurfer before babies come along… an hour later ‘oops too late!’ (He still went back and got his new toy though – you’ll learn to love that about him for sure!).
Anyway and then we argued a bit about readjusting our year and our plans, especially our UK and Italy trip (as you’ll be a big baby by then… and I’ll be a big mumma!), before I cried and your daddy hugged me and we just giggled. It wasn’t how they portray it in the movies, baby, but it was beautiful.
We took you to the theatre that night – we saw Othello. It won’t be your favourite.
And so here I am. Here we are! Just 24 hours into my discovering you (and your daddy is already hollering from the kitchen telling me what I can and cannot eat anymore)… and I am learning once and for all that patience really is the biggest lesson of my life. Because it will be 8 long months before I get to meet you and introduce myself as your super cool, fly mumma (ok, I probably used up one of those one thousand apologies there huh… forgetting the pee stick bit), but anyway – we have a lot to get through before then. And whatever that is, we’ll get through it together.
Keep safe in there, and I promise I won’t get grumpy at you for denying my blue cheese cravings for 8 longgggg months.
I love you baby – heart, body and soul, which, for a little while longer, you can share mine.