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‘Okay, Fran, your calculations might be right and one way or another Ididhave unprotected sex, but although I saw online that there’s been an increase, in reality, getting pregnant naturally at thirty-nine is still rare, isn’t it?’ I asked. ‘You said so yourself last year in Tuscany. And the papers are forever banging on about women becoming barren after thirty-five. Yes, I read about celebs getting pregnant even in their mid-forties, but they have the best doctors and resources,’ I reasoned.
‘It may beharder, yes, but actually you’d be surprised, Soph. Geriatric pregnancies are one of the commonest groups these days. There’s been a sharp increase over the past few years. We’re seeing a lot more of them at the hospital.’
‘I’m sorry what?Geriatric? I know I’m approaching forty, but what’s with the ageist terminology?’ I retorted, rolling my eyes. ‘Anyway, you’re only speculating. There could be a million other explanations,’ I said.
‘Maybe not amillion, but I get your point. Shall we find out, Soph?’ Fran questioned.
‘What, now?’ I asked.
‘Yes!’ she replied. ‘Best to know sooner rather than later. Where’s the nearest Boots?’ asked Fran. ‘We need to get some pregnancy tests.’
I did a mental scan of the area.
‘Well, there’s not anywhere in walking distance,’ I replied. ‘There’s a massive Boots in Waterloo station, or there’s a Boots and Superdrug on The Strand,’ I said as I wriggled around the chair again, realising the magnitude of what she was suggesting.
‘That’s settled, then,’ said Fran swiftly. ‘I’ll jump in a taxi, get some kits and come right back, and we can find out once and for all.’
You could tell she’d been a nurse for years. So cool, calm, collected and caring, despite seeing that I was freaking out.
‘Are you sure?’ I questioned. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘Of course I’m sure, Soph. You stay here. Best to be close to a bathroom just in case.’
I reached for my bag and fished out my purse. ‘Here you go,’ I said, taking out three twenty-pound notes.
I knew I’d have to force the cash on her as otherwise she’d try to pay for it all, and God knew how much pregnancy tests even cost. I’d never had to buy one before.
I felt like I’d only closed my eyes for ten minutes before there was a tap on my shoulder.
Fran was back. Large Boots bag in hand. ‘Come on, my love,’ she said, tapping me on the shoulder. ‘I hope you’ve been drinking your tea, as we’re going to need you to pee on a few sticks.’
‘A few?’ I asked.
‘Of course!’ she replied. ‘This is your future, Soph. We’re not going to rely on just one test. A lot of them come with multiple sticks, but I’ve still bought some different types to be sure. Whatever the outcome, you’ll still need to book an appointment with your doctor first thing on Monday.’
As we headed into the largest toilet at the end of the corridor and locked the door, Fran took the boxes out of the bag. There was a digital one and another one with a colour-change tip. She removed the test stick from the foil wrapper, took off the blue cap and handed it to me.
‘Now you need to hold the pink tip pointing downwards in your urine stream,’ she advised.
I’d never been more apprehensive about weeing. At first it wouldn’t even come. Didn’t help having an audience either. I wasn’t nervous about being in a loo with Fran per se. I was just trying to get my head around the fact that in two minutes’ time, my life could change forever.
The tip turned pink. I handed the first stick to Fran, who then popped the cap back on and laid the test flat. Good thing she wasn’t worried about touching something with someone else’s wee on.
I repeated the process with the next test, then we waited in silence for the results.
One test took two minutes and the other three. It felt like the longest 180 seconds of my life.
Eventually, she looked at them one by one and smiled.
The suspense was killing me…
‘Congrats, Sophia,’ she said, grinning. ‘You’re going to be a mum. You’re pregnant!’
I looked at the plus symbol in the results window of the first one, then the word ‘Pregnant’ on the second.
OMFG.
