My blog, my life, my pregnancy. My loves, my hates. Me.

Friday, August 21, 2009

The Pregnant Girl's Primary School Reunion.

Last night I went to the pub for a reunion with everybody from the Primary School I went to. After year six, a few people actually moved countries and some people were just impossible to stay in contact with even if they only lived round the corner, so as you can imagine, most of us drifted. Because my high school situation was always temporary, I never managed to make the kind of friends I made in kiddy school. I'm one of those people that look back at their first school years and get incredibly nostalgic and sad. I seriously loved those years. Seeing everybody last night was weird, but really really good.
I'd been really nervous about going. I made a pact with myself ages ago to always make sure I looked amazing if there was ever a time I was meeting people who hadn't seen me in years. Shallow? Indeed. I wanted to give off the impression I'd blossomed, not turned into a dowdy, dull, frumpy thing! Recently my face has been covered - from forehead to chin - in big red spots and blemishes. Lovely. But my skin isn't permanently like that; lately it just has breakouts for a week, and then they all disappear and my face seems to be clearer than ever. (I guess it's the pregnant thing, although I'm probably not past puberty yet either, ha. Double dosage of hormones; eek.) My face looked okay yesterday for a change, I washed my hair and that was manageable... I fit into none of the clothes I used to wear out. I haven't got a bump yet, I'm not even at the 12 weeks mark - I've just been over-eating like a fat pig. I know all these books tell you to avoid doing that wive's taley thing and "eating for two", because you only need an extra few calories a day, but I'm not doing it on purpose! I've actually needed to eat, I've been so hungry. I went to Asda, because Asda and Primark are just about the only places with clothes in the price range I can afford right now, and Asda is just down the road from me. I wanted a cheap dress. I wasn't looking for anything that would make binty girls say "Oh my god, that dress is gorgeous babe!" but I actually found something that was really me and I instantly loved for fourteen quid - purple and silky and probably a bit too short to be a dress, I snapped it up and galloped home. I didn't really gallop, that'd look a bit strange and I would've probably been beaten up before I could reach my front door, but I wanted to say gallop so I did. When I got home I got a lecture from my mum about how I should be saving, and buying things I won't fit into in a month or two is a ridiculous idea. I admit I'm penniless, but I'd been so good so far; I'd not indulged in any treats for myself since I knew - I'd not even gone out with friends. I'd been a hermit who locks herself away for weeks and I wanted one night to not to be a hermit and not to lock myself away.
When I got there I was shitting bricks and building houses, but it was ok after a while. I found that the people I got on with really well when I was little, I could talk to easily and have a flowing conversation with and the people that I never really bonded with, I was a bit fidgety and nervous to talk to. It's weird how things stick with you and follow you from a young age into your older life! I got told that I look just the same, just older. Some guy told me I look about 30. 30?! Only if it's a 30 year old midget you're talking about - I'm too little to look 30, plus I'm only two years older than half of 30! I found it offensive, clearly it's just another way of saying I look like a paggered old hag? Haha, whatever, he was always blind. In year six he told me I looked like a duck.
The two girls I've always kept contact with were there last night, two I still class as my best friends. I wanted to take them away into a corner and tell them my news. I'm trying to tell all the best friends before I announce it to the world and tell everybody. The best friends may be a bit pissed off if they don't know first you see. So far I've told my mum, my dad, two of my sisters but not the other one (who has never really been there for me), two best friends and the other girl that was on the walk with me. One of the "best friends" I told said "Oh dear. You had so much going for you.", the other one said "Congratulations! Can I throw you a baby shower?!" I preferred congratulations. I saw her "oh dear" as a judgmental response, she'd evidently presumed it was unplanned and a thing I'd change if I could go back in time. It was planned, and I'd never change it. The girl who went on the walk, who I felt I just had to tell, because me and my boyfriend left without saying goodbye, she said, "One question that's niggling me, how on earth are you going to support it?" Erm, with love, care, clothes, food, you know, the things any other mother supports their child with? Idiot. My counsellor, I told her, but I don't really count that. My counsellor said, "It must be a difficult time for you, you're still at the point where a termination is an option." A termination was never an option. You know, even if it was unplanned and I did want to go back in time and change things, I wouldn't consider a termination, at all, ever. I've known people close to me who had miscarriages, my own sister's baby, my niece, she was stillborn. Lives taken before they've even been - that's one of the most upsetting things in my world. If I have the ability to control whether a new life stays or not and not, rather than have nature take it away without reason, then I'd always choose to let it stay. As my mum said when I told her I was pregnant; "After what we've been through, we should celebrate human life, so I'm not going to tell you you're stupid or anything like that, I'm going to celebrate it." My sisters are just generally giddy and excited about it. I never got to tell my two friends at the reunion, because one was smashed out of her face and the other had loads of her friends there.
It was funny to be around so many drunk people and so many smokers, without being able to be drunk or have a cigarette. I had half a pint and people thought I was weird, I had to say I'd stopped drinking because I was scared I'd turned into an alcoholic. Apparently it runs in my family. It doesn't, I'm just a great liar. Everybody was like, "What are you doing with yourself now then Pixie?" Just yanno, being up the duff and stuff. "I was at college, but I've finished my course now and I'm going to get a job." Which will be true, in June. Through my pregnancy, starting from September (which isn't long now) I'm doing a few part time college courses to try and up my grades so I can actually get a job. I kinda came out of school with three GCSES, that looked like this: C, D, E. Nobody wants that, not even KFC. I'm retaking Maths, doing an English a-level (English was the thing I managed to scrape a C in), and doing IT (which I never did at all.) I'm not even going to bother with Science, because it depresses me.
My boyfriend's got himself a job, and I'm still saving my 30 pounds a week in the bank. We're going to be poor for a long time, but we're going to love our baby and I've got the privalege of my mum and dad's help. He hasn't told his parents yet. He's waiting for "the right time." I can't tell the world until he tells his parents.
My pregnancy so far - I'm 10 weeks pregnant, my first scan is on the 2nd of September, I'm fat and moody and spotty, but generally happy. Some people know, most people don't. I'm going to announce to the world via facebook. Well, is there another way really?! The reactions to my news will mainly be negative, I'm well prepared for it. The people that say congratulations, I'll class as true friends. The "friend" who "oh dear"ed me, lets just say, she can fuck off. She hasn't contacted me since I told her and if she does I'll be blunt as ever. I made my scrapbook page for the day I found out. Wanna s
ee? :)
If you can actually read that writing, have a medal. I can't. I'm going to try and make my blog posts shorter. It's just getting all the pregnancy stuff in here as well as other bits of my life, it takes a lot of sentences! I know all my posts probably look really daunting and any people who might read them, probably only get to the second paragraph... Everybody else probably just looks at my blog and thinks "WOAH no, fuck that. I'll be here all day." It's actually really annoying when I'm trying to read everything I've wrote and see if there are any mistakes :P So, I promise, next one will be shorter, for my own sake as well as yours. Maybe only a little bit though. I can't work miracles. I've always wrote too much. In year 3 we were told to write a short story and I wrote ten pages worth. In year three that is a lot. Everyone called me a geek :)

Write soon xo