(This piece was totes published on mamamia.com)
TV tells me giving birth is a beautiful thing.
But as a 26-year-old business woman, the only thing I’m thinking about rearing is a world dominating enterprise, which for the most part will not occur via my vagina.
Yet recently I’ve found myself with a late period (three weeks to be precise) and while home pregnancy tests may give you the A-OK, their general Hasbro appearance and functionality lends the need for a doctor’s opinion.
So, if you too are not ready to have four limbs break dancing their way through your uterus, these are the stages to navigate in reaching your unplanned baby mama verdict.
1. Awkward angsty stage.
My womb is nowhere near ready to be leased. So, the thought of someone moving in unannounced and staying nine months rent free sort of made me quiver in my ovaries. Usually I’d just tell myself to, ‘have a vino and cool your jets for a minute’, but that wasn’t so kosher in this equation. After realising this month’s egg hadn’t left the nest, I was all “Girl, you best do your face, put on your big girl boots and send yourself to the doctors to sort that shit out like an adult”. So, I did.
Now, if she’s not your family GP, prepare yourself for one of those turbo-bitch doctors that’s lost all passion for her job like that 40-year-old guy that’s still ripping your tickets at Hoyts.
Keep expectations low.
She won’t be understanding and will not be feelin’ how severe your FOPO is (Fear of Pregnancy Outcome). She’s going to ask awkward questions, which basically decipher your stance on abortion, so make sure you know where you stand on that and why.
She’ll also get all up in your grill about the circumstances of your relationship, how committed you both are and how stupid you are for not being on the pill. At this point you say, “Lady, just let me wee in this tiny cup then stick a needle in my veins and I’ll be on my way”. Ain’t nobody got time for that much ovulation.
2. Inquisitive stress face stage.
After leaving the doctor’s you will feel relieved. You’ll pat yourself on the back for taking action. This elation will last five minutes, then you will get on your iPhone and Google search everything from the accuracy of blood tests for pregnancy to the multiple disorders that will stop your positive pregnancy showing up on your results.
By this time you’ve already convinced yourself that you have all the symptoms; bloating, fatigue, nausea, a light and constant sniffle or cold, even up to the weirdest shit like your nipples changing colour.
Now your FOPO is at an all time high. You have never seen so many pregnancy adverts in one day. It appears the entire mainstream media is coercing your womb into submission.
Why is the front page of my local paper splayed with baby formula promos? Why is my cafe hosting a mums and bubs seminar? Try and ignore these obstacles at all costs, your stress levels are already causing your period to be delayed.
Put your phone away, grab a chocolate bar and consult one of those friends that always lies to make you feel better!
3. Haggling crazy chick stage.
I’m not the girl that gets pregnant. I’m the good one. The one that had straight As and always got the strawberry scratch ‘n’ sniff stickers. Unfortunately, my womb is the same as the ones inside those badass bitches that rolled their skirts and smoked inside the toilets, and so is yours. Now that you realise you have nothing to leverage, you’re in the bargaining zone.
If, like me, you believe in God you will repent like there’s no tomorrow. You will get down on your hands and knees and promise anything to not be pregnant. “I will never have sex again”. “I will never get drunk again”. “I will never eat peanut butter from the jar with a spoon and then dip it into the Nutella jar again”. Swear.
“Please no pregnancy, please no pregnancy…”
In my opinion, this stage is needed. The irrationality and slight madness of it is pivotal in getting you to the assertive stage.
4. Angry Assertive Stage.
It’s around mid afternoon and you’ve already been to the bathroom 26 times to check if your period’s arrived. Surprise, it hasn’t. There’s still a few hours before you find out your results, which is just enough time for you to boil and simmer over your situation.
You hate life and everyone in it. You are slowly seeing your career dreams flushed down the potty along with your semi-descent figure. The guy you’re with (or not) is now a complete arsehole and, of course, is to blame for everything. Anyone that asks anything of you right now is a complete bitch face.
Here’s where heightening anxiety leads to action. You assess both outcomes and assure yourself that things will be okay. If indeed you are not pregnant (hello wine!) you promise yourself you will have a new lease on life. “If I’m not pregnant I’ll go to Machu Pichu and climb the Inca Trail and get naked and swim in the river”. “I’m going to start that jewellery business I always wanted to”. “I’m going to drink more wine, everyday”.
These are all things you will most likely tell yourself. And then the other outcome is slightly more touchy. A lot of you will look into abortion clinics in your local area, which is a frightening realisation if it presents itself, even just to look at. We all make our own choices and that’s okay, but I wish that stress on no one. You will start to look at your employer’s support structure for maternity leave and benefits and possibly search women that have ‘done it all and dominated’. These are all outcomes you will consider in the space of an hour.
Waiting for the telephoooone…
5. Depression and then relief stage.
It’s five minutes before you can call the doctor for your belly dilemma. They are the longest five minutes of your life. At this stage, I tried to busy myself. I called my friends, I checked Facebook, I watched the GIRLS episode where Jessa gets faux pregnant, I banged my head against the door.
Finally, you pick up the phone and sort of expect Eddie McGuire’s voice on the other end to tell you that the answer was actually A) and you are not a Millionaire Hot Seat winner and you should now start re-watching Offspring.
But instead, a 16-year-old casual worker picks up and tells you your results are negative in one swift sentence, just like the checkout girl at McDonald’s drive through tells you they’re out of fries. And suddenly, you are the luckiest girl in the world! You are now jumping around the room and splashing red wine everywhere! You feel younger, and fresher, and sexier than ever before.
Mostly, you are thankful that you aren’t stuck in a situation you don’t wish to be in, where so many other girls often find themselves without the right support system to help them through it. Thankful that you have a second chance and will now always be more cautious when it comes to a little hanky panky.
Thankful that because of this, instead of a glass half empty you are now a wine glass half full sort of person!