Week 4 – Day 3

I (we) told my parents yesterday, and Fredde. And Dave’s parents plus Chris. Everyone seem so happy and full of expectations.

I still don’t have any symptoms besides the tender boobs, and the fact that my brain is not really grasping what is going on. Usually I understand things/problems/solutions by visualising them. And I really can’t picture that that there is something inside of me. Logically I know what’s going on, like I can read about the biology and science, but I conceptually cannot grasp what is happening.

I also don’t feel particularly excited or overcome with emotion. No intense happiness to joy. Just the same… just normal.

Week 4 – Day 2

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Pre doc thoughts:

Sitting in the waiting room at the doctor’s. Not sure how this will go down, don’t know anything about what this feels like, or how it’s done in the Netherlands.

Post doc update:

Based on the first day of my last period “Justin” is due 19th November, and the doctor is hardly involved at all. It’s still super early days, and I was told to make an appointment with the midwife for around week 8. I guess until then I just wait.

He read through a whole list of things that I’m not allowed to do or eat. Alcohol and drugs (yeah, obvs…), don’t smoke (I don’t anyway)… Cheese, raw/uncooked meat/fish/eggs (I think I can handle that). I think those are the main ones. Take folic acid, be a healthy person, keep exercising – fine.

Knowing

The whole weekend in London I’d been waiting for my period to come. Me and Dave stopped using protection in January, but timing meant that it was highly unlikely that anything had happened. And either way I figured it would take around 6 months to achieve anything (Dave’s opinion was that he’d “nail it straight away” – classic Dave).

I was running with Orsi on the Saturday and had been aiming for 32 km (lol!). I did really try and push it in the end, but didn’t make it past 26 through sheer tiredness. I think she noticed that I was just incapable of keeping up cause at some point she stopped pushing, which is very unlike Orsi.

Either way Saturday night was great fun and Sunday too and I didn’t think much of periods or lack thereof, but on the Monday when I woke it was still not there. I messaged Dave to see what he though, and he said to wait a couple of days, knowing very well that I wasn’t going to. When I left the house for Westfield I figured I could just get a pregnancy test in Boots and take it there. Said and done, after lunch I peed.. and stood in the cubicle for 3 minutes. Seeing the vague red line I’m still not fully sure what went through my head, but I felt like I had to get rid of the evidence so I threw the test in the sanitary bin. I would have to take another one at home to prove it to Dave anyway, but I gave him a call and told him, while pacing around in circles through all the people. The feeling was strange, almost not there, not real? It wasn’t joy or happiness or panic for that matter… I was just unreal, unbelievable. Both my mum and Dave told me to wait and check with a doctor first, which sounded like the sensible thing to do.

For the rest of the journey back to Amsterdam I walked around mostly like a zombie. Vacant expression and aimless wandering, and once I got back home I took another test, also positive. We were having people over for games that evening so didn’t really have much time to discuss, so we just agreed not to tell anyone yet, and to call the GP in the morning.

Said and done, and the GP had time that same morning.