* We wrote these separately. The only discussion entered into was where our stories would start and end for this week. Here is how they turned out…
Who’d have thought there’d be so much to take into account? When to go off the pill, what day of the month is it, what’s the ambient temperature of your neighbour’s dog’s aura? It just seems like there is so much preparation that goes into creating a life before you actually get down to the business of creating it… and quite rightly so. It’s not something that should be entered into lightly and therefore something that Ange and I took quite some time to discuss and consider.
I, being a few years older than Ange, had been clucky for a number years before it was our time, but taking the time to discuss it and “get our affairs in order” was a luxury that we were afforded and very beneficial. We were in the process of buying a residential block with the view to build when we had made the decision to start. Never for one second think that we would have to worry about whether or not we would’ve moved into our newly built house or not, that was merely a given.
We were incredibly lucky.
It did not take Ange long to become pregnant and I will always remember the moment that I found out. It was a Friday afternoon, around 5, and I was in my car on the Sunraysia Hwy, just entering Avoca when the phone rang. It was Ange, which wasn’t uncommon as she would often call me to see if I could pick something up on my way to band. I was completely overjoyed and probably spent the rest of the night with the biggest, goofiest grin on my face. I still remember the slight disbelief that was in Ange’s voice and how as she told me it seemed to become more real to her. It became etched in stone a few days later when we got confirmation in the Doctor’s office.
It was a most enjoyable secret to keep for those first few months. Especially when talking with family and friends who were preparing for new arrivals themselves. Though I would’ve loved to have told my parents face to face the tyranny of distance got in the way so we did what any modern, digital-age family would do… we Skyped them.
With Ange’s parents we were heading their way that weekend for something else anyway so we got to tell them in person. It was in the eatery in the Basement of David Jones on Bourke St on a Sunday morning. Mick Malthouse had just walked past my father-in-law and I with his wife as we found a spot to sit as our wives organised the cuppas. Soon after draining our cups Ange shared the news and there was much happiness and hugging.
The next few months went on with the usual fare with nothing much to report but it was becoming increasingly obvious that we were going to be cutting it fine regarding our house being built and us being moved in. However, the planets aligned and on the 28th of October our Building supervisor, handed us our keys to our brand spanking new humble abode.
“Is that a line? Wait, no it’s not…hang on, hold it up to the light, crap it is a line! No…it’s just because it’s in the light, don’t they all have some barely seen line underneath?” Wait 5 minutes then come back and bingo. It’s definitely a line.
There is a miniscule space of time in which your eyes see the line on the stick and your brain connects that line with the fact that you are pregnant. It is a moment where your entire body cannot handle the myriad of emotions and thoughts that fly through your head, so instead it focuses on the one blunt truth. I am going to have a baby.
Rewind a few months and there is a conversation happening with my husband. All I can remember is we decided it was time and when I threw my birth control pills in the bin, and pulled them back out…and threw them back in, I knew that this was it. This would change everything.
Before I knew it I was charting things on graphs on the net, checking all sorts of bodily things and my temperature. We were very lucky. Within only 3 months the above occurred and I was pregnant. I had taken one of a million tests and this time there was this tiny faded line. I called Steve who was on his way to band practice. He seemed as stunned as I was which I was thankful for. There were these strange stretches of silence on the phone as we both absorbed the fact. A GP visit and a blood test later and it was all confirmed.
We were so excited and ready to tell people but knew it was routine to wait until 12 weeks. Did we wait that long? No. Should we have? Hell yes. Before you knew it people were writing things on my facebook wall like “Congratulations!” Then my parents were telling every aunty, uncle and cousin and shouting across the phone to other countries “Did you hear me!? PREGNANT! She is PREGNANT!”
It did get hard to keep it a secret at work however, as I began to disappear increasingly for blood tests and to say hello to what become my long time friend, the staffroom toilet. By about 10 weeks most people knew.
While all this pregnancy stuff was going on we were actually in the process of building a house, a house which had got slightly held up in the early stages. As time ticked by and I ballooned we began to worry whether this house was going to be ready in time. I was happy to remain as big as a house until we got our ACTUAL house. Being a ridiculous control-freak, I couldn’t imagine bringing a baby home to a room full of boxes. I stressed, I went to the site and stuck my belly out to the supervisor at every opportunity and bugged him incessantly saying that we must get this house on time! He worked hard to get it done in time. What could he do? There was a scary, hormonal, very pregnant woman on his back constantly. He had no choice but to get his butt into gear and a week before Mr.T was due we moved into our brand new home.
So we had some different opinions about how we felt telling people. How about you? Did you wait the standard 12 weeks to tell people you were having a baby? Show us some comment lovin’ and let us know!
Linking up with the lovely Grace for Facebook Lovin’ Sunday