I'm feeling a lot less scattered, and although still depressed, its manageble. I talk to my GP and discuss going back to work - just 2 days, as it may give me a break from the parent-child head space. You know the one where I panic about everything. Temperatures, cleanliness, cot death, bonding, feeding; God its a never ending list of possible nightmares to catch out the new and unsuspecting parent. She thinks it will help me reconnect with a time of confidence and routine. I focus on the fact that if I return to work I can talk to grown ups and drink a whole cup of coffee uninterupted. This is my plan. My husband and I have looked at a nice house and have put an offer in. We'll know on Monday if its a GO. The future looks bright.
I organise a visit with my friend in Gloucester and take a drive down. No mean feat with a car seat, a "bumbo", sterilising equipment, masses of clothes, nappies and muslin cloths. She too has a new baby so if I go completely loopy, at least she'll be able to help. Whilst chatting she asks me if I'd like some money toward petrol.Something inside me reminds me that my period is due. I am then reminded of my night of psychotic love in the caravan from hell, and suddenly think I should just check that this one occassion, lacking in contraception, isn't going to be life changing. I ask for the tenner but buy a pregnancy testing kit with it. We go to her local cafe on the way home from the pharmacy, and I nip in the loo and pee on the stick of hopes and dreams. Who would've thought such a tiny blue line could make or break a relationship, bring total joy or devastation in the space of a minute. I'm standing over the little white plastic stick with an attitude of , "Don't you dare turn blue...". I'm counting and trying not to hop about on the spot. I close my eyes, brace myself and try to be calm. OK - Lets look. I almost pass out and sit down very unsteadily on the loo seat. Oh my.
As I reappear , my friends face is quizzical. I sit down and burst into tears. She is absolutely over joyed that I'm pregnant. I am absolutely terrified. Terrified of telling work that I'm coming back pregnant, and terrified of telling my husband, as we could be about to take on a new mortgage and moving house with a child under 1. "Ideal situation" is not a phrase I would use at this point in time.
I phone hubby at work. He is thrilled that our offer on the house has been accepted. He asks to phone me back in 10 minutes when I tell him we're having another baby. We are both shocked an amazed that this one incident of unbridled passion has resulted in new life. Its a bit scary to say the least.
I go to the anti natal "booking-in" appointment and the big, fat, smug midwife looks at me with a knowing smile. "You aren't the first, and you won't be the last me duck." The due date is middle to end of June. I'll have to continue on the 20mg of prozac. Apparently its reasonably safe and has a least been tested in pregnancy. I now have a very small baby, mental illness and pregnancy to contend with. Oh yes, and going back to work next week, job sharing for the first time ever, and managing a staff team that are about to go through an organisational restructure. Bring on the melt down....I must be completlely insane.