I've always thought about new life, giving birth to a child and raising it with love and care.
But I've only thought about it in brief, never getting very far in my thought process. To be honest, the thought actually scares me. In order to successfully bring up a child and prepare them for the real world, its heavily implied that you already have your own life together.
Up until now, I did not have my own life together. Figuring out who you are as a young adult, alongside finding a sustainable income and discovering what you want to do with your life is not a simple task, and adding a baby to the mix would not be a smart idea.
At least, not until you're ready.
I don't think you can ever truly be ready, because thinking about it and the actual reality of it are very different things.
But, what I've found to help is when you have a loving, trusting and very supportive partner to get through it with. That's when it truly becomes beautiful.
Marcus had always expressed his desire to have kids. He wasn't pushy, which I really appreciated, he waited patiently for me to talk to him about the subject.
When we finally did have the conversation, he was over the moon. Seeing him excited pushed me to get over my initial nerves, and after that it was just a rollercoaster of emotions.
I will always remember the day I found out I was pregnant as if it just happened five minutes ago. Marcus had just gone out with some friends late in the afternoon, and I was about to start making dinner for when he got back. The previous day I had sneakily slipped out the house to go and buy a few pregnancy tests, which I had been doing for the past few weeks in the hopes that it had finally happened.
Let me tell you, hiding so many negative tests from your boyfriend is not easy at all, but I somehow managed it. I just didn't want to disappoint him, and I know its stupid because he's the sweetest most supportive person ever, but a part of me just wanted to show him the result when it was the one we couldn't wait for.
So here I was, starring at myself in the mirror, trying to encourage myself to pee on a stupid stick for what felt the millionth time. I timidly sat on the toilet, spreading my legs to fit the stick underneath me before I peed.
I'm just honestly so glad humans have evolved to not be grossed out by their own smells and fluids, because as a woman directing your pee to where you want it to go is mission impossible, I physically cannot avoid the pee that gets on me every time I do this.
But, once I'd done it, all I could do was wait. And creepily stare at myself in the mirror in a lame attempt to manifest the test being positive.
Its just two minutes to wait. You've done this how many times now? You can do it again. I thought to myself, resisting looking at the timer set on my phone.
When it finally did go off, my heart leaped in my chest as the anxiety rose in my stomach again. Breathing heavily, I reached out and grabbed the test, slowly turning to look at it.
Oh my life.
I barely refrained myself from screaming as I took in the long awaited positive result. I was still shaking, but the nervousness had now dissolved.
I looked at the time. 6:30pm. Marcus would be home soon.
The sound of the front door opening stopped my thoughts from spiralling further.
"Baby, I'm home!" He called out, but I was still in shock and so when I attempted to speak, my vocal chords refused.
"Where are you?" My lack of response was starting to worry him, and I could hear him running up the stairs as he searched for me. Marcus must have noticed the bathroom door was shut, we only ever shut it when its occupied, for his footsteps stopped just outside.
