Do you remember the first time you found out you where expecting?

I remember the day I found out I was pregnant for the first time like it was yesterday. It was a Friday, June 20th 2008. I was living in Singapore at the time and my husband (Pete) and I had only been married two years, living abroad four months and trying for three weeks.

It was Friday lunch time in a swelteringly hot Singapore and as I sat down with my good friend from work to gossip about my recent trip away to Melbourne I commented how 'unwell' I felt.
'Are you pregnant?' Lin asked, eyebrows raised as I politely declined a glass of wine with my meal.
I was. But I didn't know that yet. The tiredness, headache and reluctancy to drink was more a result of a big night out we'd had the night before to celebrate a birthday which from memory involved far too much gin and tonic, shots, a thai strip club, the four floors (those in Singapore will know this) and very bad karaoke in a club not offering karaoke. Home at 4am, up at 6.30 for work. I was hungover.

But leaving lunch I suddenly started to wonder if it was a possibility. We'd only just discussed trying to start a family. I did the calculations in my head and I was possibly two or three days late. Could I be?
I marched straight to the local pharmacy, bought the kit, tucked it into my bag and sat out the rest of the day at work till I could sneak off home. Like a kid at school I clock watched till 5pm to the second, grabbed my things and legged it out the door. Once home I forgot all about the test and continued my daily routine of undressing, dressing and heading straight to our roof top pool for evening sundowners. On cue around 7pm Pete joined me and as we lay in the infinity lap pool staring out into the twinkling lights of Singapore city I remembered the test.
'But you told me it would take months?'
Ok, yes, so I may have said that because it can take months, sometimes years. I wasn't to know.

Ten minutes later downstairs in our apartment, I drank a gallon of water, weed on the stick, myself and the floor, and then waited. I didn't even need to wait 30 seconds. It was a big fat plus sign. Shit. I didn't believe it. So I tried the second stick. Same. Shit.
Without leaving our glass-bowl bathroom I picked up my phone and called Lin.
'So I've heard of false negatives but do you get false positives?' Lin had three children to date so I figured she'd know this kind of stuff.
'Nope. OMG, You are pregnant. Congratulations' and with that, she hung up.

I opened the bathroom door, walked the plank, I mean passage to where Pete was casually sitting enjoying a beer on the couch watching Friday night sport and passed him the test stick.
'Gross, didn't you wee on this?' He looked down at it and for ages didn't say a word. I tried to work out if he didn't understand or if it was just a delayed reaction to work out the best thing to say.

And then finally....'Are you sure?'
'I think so. But if you want I'll go see a doctor tomorrow' To be honest I wasn't convinced myself.

And that was it. We sat in stunned silence for the rest of the evening until my hungover tired sleepy head couldn't take anymore and like two real party-going twenty somethings we went to bed, at 8.30pm.

The next day and a quick trip to our local chinese doctor resulted in confirmation of what I expected we both already knew. I was pregnant. Almost 5 weeks. Due February 2009. Baby #1 was on it's way.