Pregnancy Test Response...

Below is my response to a guest post on a particular blog that I am finding impossible to comment on, most likely due to my lack of skills. So once again, here is my reply...



Original post www.methemanandthebaby.com "Guest Blog - Little Blue Lines"

Comment
You are concerned about doing a pregnancy test three days early because you promised your husband you wouldn't? Scrap that! I think your husband can pretty much guess that when It comes to a woman trying to get pregnant, all rationality will go out of the window. It's inbuilt, it's natural, it's compulsion that you will do a pregnancy test whenever the notion pops into your head and it will eat away at you until you do. He should learn this early on in your reproducing career.

Husband also needs to understand and accept, that regardless of the result, you will do more tests...just to check! Just in case the first, second...tenth was inaccurate.

I remember promising not to  buy any more tests until next month (as I had clocked up about £120 within a few days all on negative tests) but at the same time, my mind racing as I crossed my fingers behind my back.

Even after the twentieth test of a positive result, you still may need to do another. A flat dip-stick type of test, so when it shows the two blues lines, you can glue it into a scrapbook/photo album, rather than attempting to cellotaping one of the bulky digital tests. This could just be me, rather than the "norm."

If you do the test early and get a negative result, you will still retest on Friday and repeat your heartache all over again.  Husband should definitely be there to hug and squeeze tight and remind you that you can keep trying.

Your comment "I am such a patient person, normally - what is it about babies that make you (or, well me!) like this?! Its ridiculous."

Pregnancy testing is only the start...just wait until you are 30+ weeks pregnant and you are counting down the days until you go into labour, it's like you have suddenly lost your mind.

I think it's safe to say that you should concentrate on testing when you feel it's necessary and don't make any guarantees to your OH that you will wait until such a date. Explain that it's a compulsion, blame your hormones! Give him a taster of the nutter you are hoping to become, because when you get pregnant, he best brace himself...you become one of the loony gang.

P.S - I know it may seem bizarre but for some reason, I find it IMPOSSIBLE to get pregnant when I want to. I can never time it so I can pick their birthday month. The more desperate I become and the more I focus on it...the more my body defies me. I even tried meditation once, to try and "tune in" to my womb, hoping to will my lady bits into working...blah. I tried being super healthy too, stopping drinking alcohol featured in this. NOTHING!

In sheer frustration, I thought... fuck it!

Booked a holiday in the day then went out and got drunk that night...BINGO!

Baby 1 was conceived.

Sea Of Trouble

A hopeless void of despair is the pit I find myself sobbing in, rather than the excited, nervous, bride to be, who is looking forward to her future of endless positive possibilities. I have proven yet again to be a "fuck up" and if there was an ounce of selflessness in me then I would allow him to escape the up coming nuptials. Not that he would opt out. He is far too responsible to refuse marrying his pregnant girlfriend and risk disappointing his future step-children, so  I would have to take measures into my own nail bitten, shaking hands. Can I allow him to stand by my side and commit to being my "partner in crime" (or after today, "partner in fraud") knowing that I will drag him down with me?
My faults are never through bad intention, I hope to think it's a case of bad luck or bad judgement. Ideally I would like to think of my situation as "things just going wrong," and in the karma stakes, eventually,  I would deserve for things to go right. Maybe I'm in denial and that really, I'm like a character from a film, a sort of natural disaster, a hurricane of negativity, a force of fuckedness. Maybe I am getting exactly what I deserve now, that all this badness is a result of my past. That there was a period of me being such an evil person, yet I just don't remember due to selective amnesia, and I will face stressful eternity as punishment. The problem is, do I bring everyone else along for the ride?
Maybe I am feeling particularly low, maybe money shouldn't have such an impact in my life, maybe my hormones are just smothering my rationality or maybe I feel guilty for absolutely everything beyond my control. I just feel a storm brewing...
Not a row, nor argument of volume, more of a complete solo release. My atmosphere is definitely disturbed, the opposing feeling of wanting to celebrate love, family and future conflicting with the dread of potential stresses and fear of being hurt is causing the pressure to rise.
Maybe my internal violent destructive side will erupt, my body and mind will spin and soar, wail and bolt until all that is left is the calm...
...floating in a silent pool of emptiness with all energy expelled seems rather appealing.
The only thing to consider now is do I give the storm warning to others and hope they will listen? Allow them to evacuate and hope they will return as part of the rescue operation?

Everything's Changing

I feel like screaming this morning, partly in fear, somewhat in anger, towards my rapidly changing body.

Today was to be a positive one, until I pulled my cagoule over my head and it caught on my bump, which certainly didn't happen yesterday. After trying my dress on last night and trying to reassure myself that I didn't look like a hideous, bloated cartoon, that will be ridiculed in the registry office. I now face the sheer stress of having to try it on again for size tonight. There is no glimmer of hope inside my swollen body that I will not look like a stretched, rippled, ivory hippo.

My reflection looks less upsetting full frontal, however my profile could bring tears instantly. No-one must stand to the side of me, which could prove tricky. I may have to constantly twist and spin to stand face to face. A rippled ivory hippo/Tasmanian devil is what I shall be.

Just to ram it all home, the under-wire in my bra has been creaking today. Each time I hear the noise, I feel like a geriatric, dusty old maiden that hasn't had any boob action since her youth and that if I bear to look down under the sighing bra, cobwebs will be swaying in the breeze to visually highlight each groan. 

Just to add onto my ever increasing list of current fears/stresses, I now have it in my head that the boy will not go near my boobs once I am lactating. Luckily, I am running behind schedule, well, maybe not so luckily on my part, as lactation is induced by stimulation. Do I demand more stimulation as I am clearly being neglected, which in turn will result in milk, thus freaking out the boy or delay his angst and maintain the lack of tit attention? But if I am to refrain from any boob action, why do I care if he is freaked? My head hurts badly. There is a definite retardation during pregnancy. I'm not sure what causes it, maybe hormones? Does my body place me in a state of absent-mindedness in order for me to forget the trauma of pregnancy in the hope I will procreate once again? 
Do I become this dumb during menstruation? I'm sure the boy would insist I do.