BABYDUST!

Apparently being pregnant now requires you to learn a new language.

I admit, I have become a serial troller of google forums and pregnancy sites in an effort to understand what the hell is happening to me. Is this weird sensation normal? Has anyone else had this too??

But they aren't very helpful, and not just because it seems that the range of sensations is huge and varied, but because I honestly cannot understand what is being said.

For instance - "My DH and I have been TTC for 4 months now. When we TTC my DD and DS I got a BFP at 11 DPO.  I'm 14 DPO and haven't got AF yet but I did a HPT with my FMU, and got a BFN does this mean I'm not PG??"

WHAT THE F*$K DOES THAT MEAN???!

Well, dear reader, apparently it means this. 

Translation

"My dear husband and I have been trying to conceive for 4 months now. When we tried to conceive my darling daughter and darling son, I got a big fat positive at 11 days post ovulation. I'm 14 days post ovulation and haven't got Aunt Flow yet, but I did a home pregnancy test with my first morning urine and got a big fat negative, does this mean i'm not pregnant??"

Dear god!

It's an entire secret language that must be learnt by all who enter this weird and mysterious world of the pregnant. 

I mean, OMG, WTF! This post is so OTT and contains TMI for the DH to handle. TBH since I didn't get AF and got 5 BFP, I'm really looking forward to being a SAHM, and even a WAHM. LOL. Anyway, JTYLTK, BABYDUST!

The bun in the oven

The day I found out I was pregnant, the house caught fire.

I had been toasting some super healthy sugar free muesli in the oven, went and peed on a stick while I waited, counted to 120 and then saw the second line.

Next thing I know, the fire alarm is beeping and my husband is yelling 'you've caught the oven on fire'.
I walked into a cloud of smoke beneath the incessant beeping from the alarm, and said dazedly 'I'm pregnant', to which he replied 'that's great but the house is on fire!'

I saw flames leaping out of the oven, and thrusting the stick of terror into my husbands hand, I grabbed the fire extinguisher and proceeded to douse my muesli, and the oven in one go.

Flames out. Crisis averted.

But I am still pregnant.

My husband didn't know what two lines meant. I explained that that meant I was pregnant, and I'd never had two lines show up before. He immediately insisted I take another test to make sure.
That one also showed up positive.
So did the next two.

All up, I took a total of 4 tests that night, each one positive. Weirdly enough, the number of positives wasn't helping me accept the fact any more.
We had been trying. We wanted a kid. We were totally ready - but I wasn't feeling the anticipated excitement. I was simply feeling downright terrified.

"I can't do it!" I declared later that evening. "There's simply no way I'm going to cope!"
Thoughts of vomit, and pain and public humiliation crowded my head. Ongoing discomfort and horrendous labour where all I could think about.
"You'll be fine, remember we wanted a baby" counselled my husband.
"I want the baby." I clarified, "But can we get someone else to do the pregnant bit?"

to be continued....