Lets calibrate the TARDIS for February 2009.
Overall the Team Abulous were pretty chuffed with themselves. While I cant say I was wandering around in a blissful haze singing “Sunshine and Lollipops”, I counted my blessings everyday. To back track a little, I had been told in 2006 that I had some serious problems with my internal plumbing and was unable to conceive naturally. Going ahead with IVF was a no brainer for me. It was a choice between doing the treatment with a 60% chance of getting the baby I’d yearned for or remaining childless.
As it turns out we were struck with the lucky stick and won the IVF lottery on our first cycle. Just before they implant the fertilized embryo the medical team show you a magnified slide of the tiny life form. Its quite incredible. Seeing P1 as a cluster of cells somehow brimming with life and energy will remain etched on my memory for life. Perhaps it was the serious hormones I’d been shooting up but even then she seemed to be shouting “Look out world. I’m coming through!”
Fast forward to July 2007 and P1 was born a perfectly healthy baby. Dadabulous and I simply adored her. By the time 2009 swung around we decided to take a shot at giving her a sibling. We had four embryos on ice that we could crack open. I visited the truly marvelous Dr Allison Gee at Sydney IVF and was instructed to go for an ultrasound after my next monthly visit from Aunty Flo just to make sure everything was ship shape down there.
In the meantime I had the 20 year school re-union coming up and as my life was fabulous I was going. (I’d eschewed the 10 year reunion as I was single and my job was lousy). I even scaled the upper reaches of Sydney’s Strand Arcade searching for the perfect frock. I choose a Jayson Brunsdon which was my first ever real designer label purchase. I’ll let you in on a little secret. If you splash the cash in those designer nooks atop The Strand they flatter you with vanity sizing. The dress is a size 6. In the real world I’m safely size 10.
About three weeks passed but my time of month didn’t give me time of day. I assumed being a week late was just an unexplained hormonal quirks. Nevertheless the day before Valentines Day I went out and purchased a “Discover” kit. I was planning on indulging a bottle of rose with Dadabulous and wanted to make absolutely sure that I could enjoy it.
I disappeared into the bathroom and went through the usual drill. Then I wandered off to faff about on Facebook before returning 10 minutes later. Two very clear blue lines! “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!” I screamed in shock. Dadabulous swaggered in to take control of the situation. “Whats wrong? Is there a spider?” he inquired with his chest puffed out ready to defend the damsel in distress. “No. I’m pregnant!”
Incredulous, he grabbed the stick from me. “Now lets look at this. Are you sure you did everything right?” “Yes” . He persisted “How long has it been in the cup?” I told him it had been in longer than the recommended five minutes. “Look one line is fainter than the other”. I pointed to the instructions. ” It says here that doesn’t matter. Its still a positive”.
“Oh”. Reality started to sink in. The local GP confirmed the pregnancy the following day.
I blew up like a balloon. Two weeks later I attended the school reunion looking like I was three months gone. The dress cut into my waist line and my feet cramped and ached in sky scraper high heels. The evening was torture and on top of that I had to deal with my old school buddies (which wasn’t all bad).
Now P2, the “shock of my life”, is about to turn 3 years old and we all love her fiercely. She’s so smart, funny and bold. I love the way she runs like a freight train and leaps fearlessly into life. I love her cheeky cackle and her priceless “shake your booty” dance. I love how she can usually get one up on her sister and my heart melts when she tells me I’m “her best friend”. I don’t love it so much when she squeezes herself all kinds of nooks and crannies to avoid getting dressed. Nor am I enamored by her kicking me out of bed in the middle of the night but hey nobodies perfect. I am the luckiest Mummy in the world. Happy Birthday my little girl.
PS: The moral to this story is that if you are trying to conceive simply buy an expensive dress in a size too small. You are certain to get knocked up.
PPS: I have worn the Jayson Brunsdon to a couple of weddings since and it is fabulous.