So it seems I should naturally start this blog at the beginning, and I don’t mean the beginning of my life because we would be here for a very long time; but rather the beginning of Danny’s life.
I’ve always wanted to have kids. From day dot I’ve had a “strong maternal streak” as my Mum would say. At 8 years old when my baby brother was born I was there changing his nappy and dying to feed him from the bottle, I babysat kids as a teen and I worked for about a year and a half as an early childhood reliever part time as a way to get credible experience with kids while studying. I’ve never been afraid of babies or young children, in fact they really fascinate me. I’m completely mesmerized by their understanding and development (and their squishy cheeks). The way they look at the world with such an untainted innocence and awe, I’m completely captivated.
Since deciding I wanted to become a nurse about three years ago I knew I would go into the Pediatric field. I was aware I’d see things that would break my heart but I knew that I had it in me to care for children when they are in the most vulnerable state. When they cry and can’t tell you exactly whats wrong, you have to really know kids to know how to help them. I’ve known all along I am the right woman for the job. So as the years of study has gone by, my passion has not wavered in the least. I still have that burning desire to help the helpless, but I now want to move into a nursing specialty… from Pediatric care to Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). Babies born with surgical problems, premature, with birth defects or any kind of malformation. These babies solely rely on the care and training of specialists, doctors and nurses (and of course their loving families) to get through the toughest first months of their lives.
So like I said before, I have a love for kids, wanted kids of my own one day. Here is where my expectation met my reality. I think most people have a dream in their mind about how they want their life to turn out. The lucky people seem to achieve those expectations. However MOST of us hit road blocks a long the way.
(Henceforth the story of Danny begins)
Finishing my degree and working for a couple of years before meeting the man of my dreams and ideally dating for two years, moving in together and sharing a flat for another two years, get engaged at some point, plan a wedding, move into our first home, live alone for a year, come home to a clean house, bake cookies everyday, host amazing dinner parties for our friends while people admire our life, be financially stable, plan for a baby and live happily ever after. Hands up who else wanted that?
Found out I was pregnant in the toilets of Subway.
That is correct, the toilets of Subway. If that doesn’t bring you down from your over-achieving expectations of life I’m not quite sure what will. I still to this day don’t really know what happened. I’d been officially dating my partner Matt for only about 5/6 months before I found out I was pregnant and to make that worse, he’d actually been away on a work course in the South Island for three consecutive months of that time.
I knew I wasn’t feeling myself, I had complained out loud to Matt that my boobs were so sore and we even joked hoping I wasn’t pregnant. I thought nothing of it and expected my period to come as normal a month after he had got home from his course. But the pain continued and I began to suspect there was a possibility I could be pregnant. My period wasn’t due for a couple days, but I let my flatmate at the time know and she offered me a pregnancy test and prompted me to use it. My honest thoughts were “this is ridiculous” “there is no way i’m pregnant”. I chose not to tell Matt of my concern because I honestly didn’t believe it was possible.
Not needing to pee at the moment I was given the test, I put it in my handbag and traveled down to Levin with my flatmates to watch one of them get a tattoo. When the urge finally came, we stopped in at Subway to get a meal before sitting for hours watching this tattoo be done. I walked off into the bathroom and peed of the stick with butterflies in my tummy. I didn’t look at it straight away, I was nervous even though I didn’t think I was pregnant. I pulled up my pants, washed my hands and looked at the test.
One strong and red, the other very faint and pink. But there was no mistaking that it was definitely there. I turned back around to the toilet and threw up as if on cue. I felt so sick to my stomach, and not first trimester pregnancy sick, “I can’t believe this is happening” sick. I stumbled out of the bathroom with tears in my eyes searching for my flatmates, crying “what am I going to do?” over and over to them. We went to the tattoo parlor and I was in complete shock. I rang my sister and she told me I needed to tell Matt straight away. But I was so scared. I did the worst thing possible and text him:
“I have something I need to tell you”
-God Allie, could you have been anymore stupid???
The endless calls from him began, he rang me close to 20 times and considering I had just lost my guts in the toilet 20 minutes beforehand I had none left to face him and answer the phone. I text him saying I was pregnant and after an hour or so and several calls to my sister I finally told him to ring me one more time and that I’d answer. The call did not go down as I’d expected. Turns out Matt had been told a rumor that I’d cheated on him while he was away only a few moments after I told him I was pregnant. He was livid and couldn’t even talk to me about the fact I was pregnant. I was absolutely mortified, and needed support from him however he could only focus on the rumor and needed to see me immediately.
After arriving back in Palmerston North many hours later I went to see him. My heart was in my tummy and my tummy felt like it was in knots. I was so scared and so nervous. We talked for a long time and came to a truce. Then we knew we had to talk about me being pregnant.
I thought I knew him well, but well enough to start a family? I had a million thoughts in my mind. I knew if I went through with this that I’d be tied to this man forever. I certainly loved him, I knew that for sure. But I didn’t exactly know where that love was taking us. If I even wanted to commit to him in that way, so soon into our relationship. I certainly hadn’t planned to anyway. I wanted to be with him so badly and I was so terrified that this pregnancy would push him away. I felt like I’d essentially have to chose between this tiny baby that I now knew I had inside me, and him. An impossible decision.
I think back and wonder, was there ever a time I was so caught up in being with Matt again after three months of him being away that I forgot to take the pill? It’s unlikely, but certainly not impossible. We were inseparable from the moment he came home from his work course and somehow I had fallen pregnant. And that was my reality.