Ummmmm I'm pregnant ..... holy shit i'm pregnant

In October of 2016 I felt off. Like really off. Out of this world exhausted. Sick to my stomach with every smell, oh and my boobs - hello perkiness! But I wasn't pregnant, I mean I couldn't be pregnant, 18 months ago we made the decision to PERMANATELY prevent us from being pregnant. We decided that our family was complete, that our perfect pigeon pair were just that, perfect and we didn't need any more children to complete us. In fact we decided it was financially irresponsible for us to have any more children.




Simon had the big snip. It took some encouragement but he did it, and after tests confirmed he was in fact shooting blanks we were relieved and excited to start planning our life after daycare costs, nappies, toilet training and sleep deprivation. Our kids were 5 and 3 and we were entering the golden years of parenthood. You know the ones, the ones where your kids are old enough to be through the tantrums and trying times but young enough that they still want to be with you, do things with you, are proud to be seen with you.




So as you can understand we couldn't be pregnant. I mean for gods sake - we signed a form saying we understood this procedure was a permanent form of contraception.




After showing of my perky boobs to a work colleague in the gym, I was so proud that all my hard work training was paying off, I was the skinniest, fittest and most confident I'd ever been in my own skin - she laughed that perhaps it wasn't my hard work, that perhaps I was pregnant. We both laughed, and laughed and laughed. Impossible I said.




So anyway, I felt like I was dying, like actually dying, I was vomiting everything up, I was asleep by 7pm and could barely roll out of bed 12 hours later. Oh and my period was 10 days late, but you know I'd been working out loads, watching what I ate and my husband was fixed, so I couldn't be pregnant.




I turned up at my sister in laws one Monday afternoon after picking the kids up and asked if she had a pregnancy test lying around, just because I had to rule it out.

Within a few seconds of taking the test that magic second line appeared – you know the one, the line that you are so desperate for when you make the decision to start a family, the line that seems to take an endless amount of time to faintly appear before you take a photo of it and send it off to your best friend for confirmation that she too can see it – yep that line, that pink line, it was instantaneous, it didn’t require photo validation.

I held onto the wall. My head was spinning and I was shaking so uncontrollably I’m sure there was wee splatter being shared down the hallway.

My face must have said it all because my sister in law just looked blank and I burst into tears.

My immediate fear was “how will Simon ever believe me” my second fear “how can we afford another baby”

I called my best friend.

She didn’t help.

We spent a good little while just silent on the phone before I said “I have to call Simon” and promptly hung up on her.

I called Simon.

He too was silent. Who could blame him, I mean what could he say? I imagined the Jerry Springer episode that would play out at home. I imagined having to complete DNA tests. I imagined the worst.

I decided to call into the shops on my way home and get a few more tests and because I’m impatient I took them in the toilets at Westfield shopping mall. Each one was instantly positive. My sister in law shouted me hot chocolate and I called my mum. While I could hear her voice through her beaming smile I cried. While my Dad laughed I cried.

For the next few days I was numb. I can’t really express how I felt. Shocked mostly. Scared. Worried. Nervous. I didn’t understand what was happening or why it had happened to us. It wasn’t until Simon received word back from his surgeon to say that he was one in a million and was in fact firing on all cylinders that I flipped a switch.

I went into check box mode, typical type A Helene, listing all the things I needed to do to prepare for this baby.

Have blood tests taken - CHECK
Name on daycare wait lists - CHECK
Contact Hospital for a spot in the birth centre - CHECK
Make a dating scan appointment - CHECK
Get prenatal vitamins - CHECK
Stop drinking alcohol, eating deli meats, soft cheeses and sushi - CHECK

There were moments I’d be so excited to be this lucky, like 1 in 1,000,000 kind of lucky, and in others I’d be left thinking about how much will change with a new baby and be a complete mess of emotion.

A few days later I received my blood test results. Being somewhat familiar with blood assays and biology I took one look at the hCg levels and my gut turned. They were high, too high and in that moment I felt nothing but panic, FUCK I thought. it's going to be twins.


 I rang my BFF again and asked her what her friends HCG levels were at 7 weeks with twins - over 150,000 she said, you're not having twins.....but I couldn't shake the feeling and I felt this way until my dating scan 2 weeks later. It was twins. I know its twins I'd keep saying.

I spent most nights vomiting, in bed by 7 and I just couldn’t keep up the way I used to. We explained to the kids around 8 weeks we were having a baby, they were convinced they wanted one each.

No kids, we only want 1 baby we'd say.

It was 9am on a Friday morning. From my LMP I’d put myself at around 9 ½ weeks. I took the kids off to meet their newest sibling at my dating ultrasound. I was convinced that this child was meant to be, that nothing would gone wrong because they had fought all the odds to be there already. I told Simon not to worry about attending, that he’d have another opportunity in 3 weeks at the 12 week scan.

The moment the sonographer zoomed over my belly, my panic from previous weeks was confirmed. The Sonographer congratulated me, the kids beamed and I burst into tears. DOUBLE FUCK.

Cooper in all his five years of wisdom proclaimed “but my mum doesn’t want two babies”.

It was twins.

From there I only remember hearing the words Fraternal and perfectly healthy and then the sonographer left me crying and alone.

Once again I called my best friend.

I'm not sure how I got home from that appointment, however I do remember Simon picking me up off the driveway and carrying me inside in a catatonic state of shock.