When I was in my first years of high school I was always known more as the funny one rather than the pretty one. I was always just friends with the boys n for the most part I didn’t really mind. I was always a bit different and had this huge ginger mane that I had no clue what to do with. I had the fortune of having the nickname of Sideshow Bob.
I remember Valentine’s Day coming round and always knowing that I probably wouldn’t get a card. I wasn’t massively bothered but still, I kind of hoped. Let myself get clouded by the false hope and would become a little bit excited. Then I’d tell myself that it didn’t matter. It was only a fucking card Nicola!
When I turned 15, I went to the Under-18 clubs, learned that I had to put product in my hair, grew boobs and got a boyfriend.
I’d waited a few years for my Valentine’s cards then suddenly found myself surrounded by them (OK.. well I got a few, they weren’t exactly dripping from the ceiling)
This is pretty much how I feel about the whole trying to conceive cycle. Like I’m waiting and hoping to just get pregnant, knowing deep down that I prob won’t be getting the positive just yet. Letting the false hope get the better of me.
Then the babies turn up everywhere. Babies and bumps on every corner. I’m surrounded. The only difference is that these ones aren’t for me.
I know that one day I’m going to get what I’ve been waiting for.. it just feels like I’m back in school again, feeling a bit left out.
(Yeah…My period turned up today. Just to clarify that)