This morning I am lying in bed, next to me on the duvet, purchased fresh off the shelf of the chemist by my husband on return from the school run, is a pregnancy test. It’s like a heavy weight on the duvet, keeping me tucked in and cosy for just a minute longer before I have to pee on it to see if it’s the end of a chapter in my life or the start of a very tiring one. I’m 43, getting pregnant at 16 was foolish ( I miscarried ), getting pregnant at 43 is careless or a miracle. We have been trying for another child since my son was born 10 years ago. We shall see what the blue stick of destiny says as soon as I can move. It’s so warm & cosy here at the moment. I don’t want to know if this 2 week lateness is due to one thing or another. Ignorance is bliss as they say.
So many things going through my mind right now. If I am pregnant, what do I do? There’s a huge risk of this child inheriting my husbands condition, how would we cope? The risks of being a pregnant older woman, with the state of the NHS as it is, would I get the proper care? Affordability. Age & health. How it would affect my 10 year old, the dynamics of the family.
If I’m not pregnant then I’m closing the book on ever having another child, in which case I hope to get through this stage of change as quickly as possible to get it over with. But I guess I have no say on the matter, it will take as long as it will take.
Oh well, there only one way to find out.
I may just lie here for another ten minutes first though…. Enjoy the last moments of ignorance….