Two near misses.

Oh my goodness me! What a dramatic 16 hours I have had, and that includes sleeping for 8.

Well I watched the rugby yesterday. What a funny game? England, what were you doing? They must have started to celebrate early because when they came back out after half time it was like they had resolved not to try. In both senses of the word.

Anyway, a momentous victory for Wales and poor old England can’t even blame it on Johnny being absent as he was scoring the points for Anglaterre in the first half before Hook decided he was going to have some Powerade.

In the words of Yoda. A sports journalist, I am not.

So yes, then after a tasty meal and congratulating little brother numero 1 on getting yet another offer to university, it occurred to me that I’m on my Pill’s 7 day break and after three days in I haven’t bled.

I know this is gross so if it doesn’t appeal to you I apologise.

I am very good with being on the Pill. I have been on it for nearly 3 years and have never been silly and not double-up if I ever miss one (I believe including last weekend there have been 3 occasions and one was even reinforced with the morning-after pill and a pregnancy test just to check).

So yes, last weekend, I got wasted in Manchester with A and his mates and forgot to take it as I take it at bedtime. I took it in the morning. It is highly likely that before it was assimilated into my system I regurgitated it into the Gardens Hotel toilet along with a portion of chips and much assorted fluid. A (as per) got the hangover horn and proceeded to perform the Sunday Morning Mating Ritual. End of story.

Soooo. In the evening of yesterday, I checked my diary and knowing that I always bleed during my 7 day break on the noon of the Saturday I panicked. Baring in mind this is about 7 hours after I usually would have expected to start.

A calls that night, not before I have researched all of the dangers of abortion and all of the places in the locality I could go and rehearsing the “Mum, Dad, I have something to tell you both…” conversation in my 100mph brain. A then goes online and starts finding out places I could go even offering to pay the £450 private fee if I don’t qualify for an abortion on the NHS. Being happy, in a stable relationship, in my twenties and healthy as a horse seems to suggest I don’t make the grade for a state-funded termination somehow. But why should I even know about this kind of stuff???

Needless to day, we both work eachother into a froth and more or less plan to fake a holiday and get it done in a back street in Mexico somewhere. Poor A. Poor me but more poor A.

SO yes, I got no sleep last night, waking up every half hour willing my abdomen to ache in the usual way and feeling my knickers in the night. At 5:28am I managed to psychologically will myself to have a period and now I am doubled over with aches, sniping at my family but – in essence – at peace. It is the best early Valentines present I can give my boyfriend. I can’t wait to tell him the good news.

Its made me think though. I never would never consider an abortion if I was financially independant, living with A and firmly sorted career-wise. As it stands, I am applying for Journalism courses right at the start of my career, my boyfriend and I are still umming and ahing about living together and to be honest, I am no where near enough the age of being able to look after another human being responsibly yet. I can’t even drink alcohol responsibly. My mum was 32 when she had me and I was her first child. My Dad had his first child, my half-brother at my age, 21. I know who has the better relationship with their firstborn. I know which marriage lasted.

I have the ominous feeling in my gut (aches and pains aside) that this time I may have had a lucky escape. Maybe it nearly happened. Maybe it did happen. Maybe some doctor somewhere reads this and thinks “oh don’t be so stupid” but I know that I would have had to make the decision if it was even down to the wind blowing in the wrong direction or I had drunk one less vodka and coke that night.

The facts terrify me. I am not religious but I am not without morals and ethics when it comes to the abortion debate. Maybe it is because I am not religious, that I consider the fact that there may no afterlife, that I honestly believed that last night I would not go through with the phantom pregnancy. Maybe A has brainwashed me. Maybe I am just a coward, a selfish coward.

Its a horrid thing. I’m honestly relieved I am bleeding today and I feel guilty nonetheless.

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