27 February, 2011

secrets secrets are no fun (11 weeks)

I play in a pub darts league every Thursday (that's right - I'm just that awesome).  I live in a country where the natural gathering place after a long day at work is the pub.  It's the time of year where many people decide to get a new job and have a leaving party... at a pub.  And I'm at that age where I know a lot of people turning 30, which means lots of fun get-togethers... in a pub.  I never realised how much of the social culture in Britain revolves around pubs until I stopped drinking.  

Don't get me wrong - I love pubs!  They are truly friendly places to hang out and relax and I understand why almost all events happen at one.  They are brilliant.  I also love a good pint.  They have a uniquely beautiful taste.  And I love the attitude to drinking in Britain.  It's a very common and social thing and therefore it is not often that people drink to excess, or go out with the intention of getting drunk.  It's also totally acceptable and unpressurised to be a person who doesn't drink, be it for health or religious reasons etc.  The trouble comes when you used to be a person that did drink and all of the sudden you become a person that doesn't.  That is not easy to explain away!  I spend the whole time trying to be creative with "long day tomorrow" or "on a diet" or "on medication."  None of which are fully accepted as a proper excuse - just a need for more encouragement.  The best method I've found is to have a drink that could be alcoholic (like lemonade) and just not say a word.  But the other part of the culture is to take turns buying "rounds" (ie: being the one that goes up and gets drinks for everyone).  The choices are then to a) always be the one to buy the round (expensive) or b) fess up to drinking only lemonade (cue the excuses again).

The drinking thing isn't actually that big of a deal.  To be honest, I've become quite good at dodging and swerving my way around it.  The real issue is that I'm so tired of it being a secret!  It's killing me!  It would be so easy to just come out and say it.  But I can't.  

I've had my appointment with the midwife already, but so far I haven't had any sort of scan or listened to the heartbeat or anything.  And the little niggling thought has wormed itself into my head that something could be wrong.  When it comes to the 12 week scan, 3% of women discover that they actually miscarried weeks before but their body hasn't reacted yet (called a "missed miscarriage").  I was initially fine with this statistic - 3% is a very small chance - but then I was doing a show in a room that seats 120 people.  There were about 100 in there.  And I had the thought: if you were all pregnant women, 3 of you would make it to the scan and find out you didn't have a baby.  All of the sudden 3% seemed a huge number.

And since then I can't tell a single extra person.  The thought of having to "untell" people is a horrible one, and I can't tell someone without that possibility tainting it all.  I know it's unhealthy and unlikely and all things twisted and wrong.  But I can't help it.  It's not like it's the only thing I think about.  It hasn't stopped me happily preparing things, buying clothes, and thinking of names etc.  For the most part I'm in a really happy place. My only blockage seems to be when it comes to telling someone I don't know that well.  So it's still a secret.  Even though it's killing me.  Luckily I haven't got that much longer to wait anymore.  My first scan is a week from Wednesday (March 9th).  It's like my light at the end of a very strange tunnel.  I will be happy then.  Hopefully.  If I'm in that 97%.  So only about a week and a half to go.  And in that week and a half I only have one after work party, one leaving party, one darts night, and one get-together.  So four more trips to the pub and I'm in the clear!  Bring on the gin-less gin and tonics.

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