Today I remembered to take my pregnancy test whilst the house was somewhat quiet and Gabriele was sleeping. Adopting a stealthy creeping over to the cereal cupboard to pick up the test before sweeping silently over to the glass cupboard to find a disposable shot glass (because we’ve already established my toilet-related aim is rubbish!) I treaded on tiptoes softly across the lounge to the downstairs loo when who should pop their head down the stairs but our inquisitive Millie! And the barrage of eager questions came firing at me, “What’s that in your hand mummy? Is it sweeties? Are you thirsty? Are you getting a little drink for the guinea pig? Or are you making magic spells?” “Erm… Yes, magic spells Millie! I’ll just be a mo!” Having quite professionally dodged Millie’s line of fire somewhat on par with the fantastic Keanu Reeves and his Matrix bullets, I was feeling quite smug with myself as I set up my very own little mixing lab on our space saver sink. As I’d thrown the box away with the instructions I had to wing it slightly and chose to adopt my own approach of timing and results reading. Managing to catch a few drops of golden truth-serum in my ridiculously small but sterile shot glass I dipped the end of the test and counted one-baby-hunting, two-baby-hunting, three-baby-hunting, four-baby-hunting, five-baby-hunting, six-baby-hunting, seven-baby-hunting, eight-baby-hunting, nine-baby-hunting, ten-baby-hunting before replacing the cap and laying it flat on the shoe rack next to some sandals I forgot I had but recognised immediately and complimented with a fond smile worthy of a best friend!
After what I thought to be about three minutes – but in reality could have been forty seconds from excitement, I picked up the test to examine the results. And like a child when I was learning to play the clarinet reading music for the first time, I took a logical approach and studied the circle and square window on the no-frills test stick; deciding that one line must mean not-pregnant as surely there has to be a control. Therefore, I deduce my little red egg-friend/foe is still camping out in wombsville somewhere and is yet to find a spermy partner to settle down with! So feeling smug with my findings I called Luca to let him know and within the entire five seconds it took me to say, “I’ve taken a test and I’m not pregnant!” I think Luca forgot to breath or move for fear of what the outcome would be. I smiled to myself afterwards as I could imagine his brain dressed like a comical loud-mouthed Army Sergeant dodging falling mortars on the battlefield, diving into the dirt wearing a helmet covered in leaves and sporting a handlebar moustache shouting “Noooooooo; sleepless nights, moody fiancée midnight cravings, Bridget Jone’s knickers, stretch marrrrrrrrks!” with the addition of fast flashing images from this past year thrown into a slide show of poopy nappies and sanitary towels in the bathroom bin for added effect.
I’m not sure how I feel about knowing I’m not pregnant. I’m not at the point where I’m desperate for another child, but if a baby should come along we would both be incredibly blessed and would adjust our lives accordingly. I love having my own body back as sharing my insides with a footballer/boxing champion is wonderful but isn’t very comfortable, and my ankles are a lot happier now that I’ve taken three stones out of the mix. I’m a lot more content now that I don’t have to worry about eating something dangerous or unconsciously causing development issues or disabilities to an unborn child because of something I’ve done or not done. I like the normality of my everyday life returning now and everything is just generally nice; I know that ‘nice’ is such a blah word severely lacking passion but in this instance nice will suffice.
I’ve been having a major wardrobe dilemma recently and felt extremely panicked over what to wear for the Christening, which is now in eight days. I had in mind two possible dresses and reassured myself that if one wasn’t suitable then the other would be a backup and save the day. I tried on both dresses and showed Luca my best peacock strut, turn and pose and he was pleased with both, sitting firmly on the fence so as not to offend me should he sway his opinion towards one dress or the other. BUT I soon realised I had an awful problem when it came to adding shoes and accessories to each dress. The first dress is a taupe ankle length flowing number, which I teamed with a pale peach rose and crochet cardigan but nowhere could I find shoes to match. I bought three new pairs yesterday and two new pairs last week and all five of them just didn’t go. So I turned to the other dress, a dreamy neck to mid-thigh length floaty black number which when teamed with heels makes my legs look very exposed and perhaps more suited to a glossy evening out than a church! So panic stations and I emptied my entire wardrobe only to realise I only had daytime summer dresses or evening glamorous dresses, but no daytime occasional dresses. I can’t remember the last time I went to a wedding or christening, I think it may have been Millie’s almost five years ago on a cold December morning when I wore a black trouser suit and everyone sat huddled in trench coats and suits in the snow.
After literally hours of searching my wardrobe, clothes stores and online I finally found the perfect dress, and it’s a combination of the two dresses I had originally sought out. It’s a white and charcoal Grecian Goddess style dress that covers my chest and neck and reaches down to the floor with delicate charcoal beaded straps and an ornate under the busy gathering; it’s floaty and sophisticated whilst still accentuating my body shape and best of all? It covers my shoes! Even though I love my shoes that I’ve just bought and can’t wait to wear them, I could easily get away with a pair of wellies if this horrible rain continues, or better still my fluffy pink slippers. I definitely deserved this dress, no question about it, and when the knowing groan should come from my bank balance I shall justify it with a swoosh of my Goddess attire. After seeing it on the model it couldn’t possibly be more elegant and perfect, but let’s just hope it does a smidgen of the same justice to me when I wear it, and hopefully I won’t look like a shrink wrapped penguin in it!
I found it so hard to dress for dinner when I was pregnant and was expecting everything to be effortless after I’d given birth as I could wear what I’m used to and familiar with, but I have to say this has been the most stressful outfit to find for occasional daywear and I hope that my financial investment in my five pairs of new shoes and new dress will cause a sudden flurry of friends and relatives inviting me to weddings and christenings so that I can wear it more than once in my lifetime.
Millie’s Graduation From Preschool
Millie had her preschool graduation yesterday and it was such a wonderful and emotional time. The night before Millie said she was finding it hard to sleep and was quite hot and I put it down to the excitement of her last day at school and the fact that our house gets very warm at night and settled with opening her bedroom windows and ushering her back to bed; but come the morning Millie was burning hot and pale looking. After a spoonful of Calpol and some toast I helped her to wearily get dressed in a pretty floral summer dress and painted her nails and toes in a shimmery pinky red shade that she’d chosen and tied her hair to a side gather which she’d seen on the television the day before and asked me to recreate. She looked so pretty but so weak so we agreed that we would go for the graduation and then come home instead of spending her last full day with her friends and teachers.
At the preschool we sat eagerly with our cameras on the front row waving and smiling at Millie as the graduating children sung a leaving song and collected their folders of work, a certificate and teddy in turn. Millie suddenly looked so grown up and mature and she turned from my little baby into a young lady overnight! It’s scary how fast time can pass and you don’t realise it’s gone until you reach a landmark or stop to look back on how things used to be. Because I’m with Millie everyday I no longer notice the tiny changes of her hair growing or her getting taller or heavier or her features more defined, until I see a picture or another child and think WOW when did this happen? With a baby it’s a lot more obvious when they hit landmarks like smiling or crawling or walking, but with young children it all becomes a blur until suddenly they’re standing in front of you in their graduation dress looking all grown up and beautiful. That’s why every single second should be cherished, because time with your children is the most valuable thing in the world. x x x
