Hi and welcome to my blog!
First, a bit of background. I’m 31 and live in Merseyside with my partner and our 16 week old son.
We always knew we wanted kids, even though I’m not particularly maternal. To be honest, I probably wanted kids for quite selfish reasons – who else is going to know I’m dead?! We kept making excuses though so the time was never ‘right’ – “We aren’t married. We don’t own our own home. We’re going on holiday.” Etc.
I was on the pill when I started getting horrendous heartburn in bed at night. I’ve never had heartburn before. I Googled it. Google said I was pregnant. I knew I wasn’t. My period was late. Nothing new there. I’d changed from the combined pill to the mini pill about six months before and my periods were now up the wall.
The heartburn continued and I didn’t feel too clever. Not sick, but dizzy occasionally. I wasn’t pregnant though. In fact, I was so not pregnant that I decided to do a pregnancy test to show myself just how un-pregnant I was. I was that un-pregnant I didn’t bother telling my partner I was doing one. I peed on the stick and put it on the cistern and messed about on my phone while I waited for it to brew. I was that unconcerned that I forgot why I was just randomly sat on the loo refreshing Twitter.
Stood up and turned round to flush the toilet and noticed my little test sat there looking like this…
I hadn’t even read the instructions but knew that one of the lines meant the test had worked correctly. Then the other window was one line for negative, two for positive. So I wasn’t pregnant but I’ll just check the instructions. One of the lines meant the test had worked correctly. Got that. Then the other window was no lines for negative, one for positive. Oh. I have one line. But it’s a very strong line and when people are pregnant they only have faint lines, don’t they? Duff test.
And so to Google again – typing in ‘false positive pregnancy test.’ Which Google tells me doesn’t exist. You can have a false negative but never a false positive. I’m fucking pregnant. The shock literally hit me like a brick wall. I cannot have a baby. I am not ready for a baby. I don’t even believe in abortion under those circumstances but I was going to get rid of the baby and not tell my partner. Then I realised I couldn’t do that and live a lie. So I’d tell him. Tell him I was pregnant but couldn’t have a baby. I went downstairs and flung my positive test at him (the cap to protect the wee soaked bit was still on, don’t worry). His face lit up and he went to hug me and all I said was “I’m not having it.” Talk about pissing on someone’s chips!
He convinced me I was in shock and needed to sleep on it. Which I did. And I woke up the next day guilty as fuck. He’d gone to work so I went out and bought another test (partly in case I had the world’s first false positive), weed (still positive) and wrote him a little note “To Daddy” about how sorry Mummy was and how excited to meet Daddy this baby was. All that excitement in his face and I’d just flung a stick of wee at him and told him I was getting rid of his baby. What a bitch.
Thankfully I got over the shock and it was time to get excited about my little bundle of joy.
mymummytales 