After every storm comes a…

I tested early, about three days before my next period. I had woken up feeling off colour and I just felt different. We had been trying for a baby for six months now.

I was excited as I knew I had to be pregnant. I got an internet cheapie test out the bathroom cabinet and took the test. I left it by the sink and toddled off to occupy myself for fifteen minutes. I knew I didn’t have to wait that long but I wanted to wait – maybe as though waiting longer might make it a positive?

I was home alone and taking deep breaths. I returned to the bathroom and fixed my eyes upon the test. Two little lines, one neutral, one green – it was positive. I WAS pregnant!

But wait…maybe it’s wrong? I need to go get my proper test, the First Response one, the 99% accurate one, the one which cost me a tenner.

Yes, we TTC women are armed with pregnancy tests, hidden away from our partners but they are there – in the knicker draw, in a shoebox at the back of a wardrobe, hidden in a sports bag inside a zip compartment.

I took the dog out for a long walk. I remember feeling like I was walking on air, taking notice of everything in my view – the trees, the birdsong and moving clouds. I was soaking the feeling up. I was feeling like I had won the lottery. I wanted to savour every second.

It lasted about an hour until the anxiety kicked in. I placed a hand on my tummy – there was life in there, a new life. A precious delicate life, my second chance. I started to walk a little slower – I have to be careful from now on, I told myself. I can’t lose this one.