Embarrassingly enough to admit I was one of those women that prior to even falling pregnant, scrolled the internet in search of the ‘ultimate’ way that upon falling pregnant I would go about breaking the wonderful news to my husband. Now I have watched many a romantic comedy, and as much as I loved the idea of seeing a positive result and instinctively letting out a blood curdling scream from our bathroom, to which my husband would come running, only to have me throw the urine covered stick in his face , and us both break down in tears, I knew that I just wasn’t the screaming type. So I was tossing up between placing three peas in a small box, to which I guarantee my husband would have had absolutely no idea of what that meant, returning to where my husband proposed and playing hangman in the sand (yes, that is how he proposed, kinda quirky, but definitely very cool), or buy my husband a pair of baby Volleys, again to which he probably would have had no idea what it meant.

But life for us was not like the movies would have you believe, nor was it like what it appeared to be for the hundreds and thousands of women who posted their brilliant, quirky, weird and wonderful delivery ideas on the internet. For us and our journey, despite being really fortunate with how quickly I managed to fall pregnant, my ‘ultimate’ delivery never came to fruition, and as such there were no peas, no game of hangman and no pair of baby Volleys.

I suspected something was amiss whilst at the Food and Wine Festival with one of my best friends. Whilst consuming copious amounts of free cheese and liquor, I began getting terrible tummy cramps. I initially ignored the pain I was in, unable to determine whether the pain stemmed from having devoured 10 kilograms of halloumi cheese, or the mixing of the five thousand different types of booze they had for free on tap.

Upon returning home later that evening, with my mind racing, I decided to access my stockpile of pre purchased pregnancy tests, which women will deny however I guarantee every woman trying for a baby has. So with my one similarity to the movies, I was in the bathroom and did the pregnancy test. And then I waited. And I waited. And then I saw what ‘kind of’, and I say ‘kind of’ because it only ‘kind of’ looked like there was a very faint blue line possibly confirming that I was maybe, ‘kind of’ pregnant. I was convinced I must have being seeing things, and that the blue line was just wishful thinking, and possibly deep seeded concern for the effect that the amount of cheese and booze I had only just recently inhaled may have on an unborn foetus. So I immediately used the other three tests I had in my stockpile. And then I went to the pharmacy and purchased another five. Literally another five. One of every brand that they had for sale, as I was still convinced of my deteriorating eye sight and thought for sure a wider array may have me seeing things a little clearer. Upon returning home all tests however appeared to have the same ‘kind of’ very faint blue line confirming that I was in fact pregnant.

But unlike the movies, there was no blood curdling scream. My husband did not come running and I did not throw a urine covered stick at his head. We did not break down in a joyful heap. Nor did I put three peas in a box. There was no game of hangman and there was certainly no purchasing of any pair of baby Volleys. To be honest, all there was, was a sick feeling of whether I was in fact pregnant, and if I was then why was I in so much pain. That night I put on a happy face and said nothing to my husband. Not wanting to burden him with my concerns and still holding high hope that I would maybe get to utilise that pack of frozen peas in the freezer (was a front runner in the delivery stakes).

The next day I went to the doctor and my fears came to fruition, he thought it was an eptopic pregnancy. Although it wasn’t confirmed I was absolutely devastated. I called my husband asking him to return home immediately, unable to tell him on the phone. I then in my tearful state broke the news that I was pregnant. No peas, no hangman and no pair of baby Volleys. But despite not being what I had pictured or imagined, it was our reality,  and all part of our unique journey to where we are today.