OK, so it's a stretch for most of us, but remember when you were 17?
I do... it was yesterday.
No, seriously. Yesterday.
Because me and my naughty husband had to go and tell the Headteacher we had been (whisper it) having rumpy pumpy and (shhhh) had made a baby.
Or should I say, we had to go and speak with my Obstetrician at the hospital to start off my pregnancy care.
When you have had five babies in five years, it starts to get a bit embarrassing. Especially when the last two were (ahem) surprises.
I know it's really none of his business, but I just wanted to make sure that the doctor understood that I DO know where babies come from (tee hee), that I DO understand how to stop them coming, and that I we HAD been doing everything right.
I just didn't want him to think me mad/stupid, or to suggest (as a French museum curator once remarked when I went to interview him) that UK television wasn't up to much...
In the end, I sat down, looked at the doctor, looked at Ray and felt a giggle rise up. Which made Ray start to giggle too.
So my poor doctor was confronted by a pair of weather-beaten 17 year olds, giggling at the fact they had been 'naughty.'
When we finally got to the point ".... so then this happened, then that, then... well, the upshot is I'm pregnant." He replied: "yes I know that" because I'd apparently mentioned it already when making the appointment...
The good news is that the scan went well, I'm coming up for 8 weeks, and baby is due end of April (so will probably come at the start - I was induced with Evie at 38 weeks because I got gestational diabetes, and as I'm only just over her pregnancy I doubt there's much can be done to prevent me getting it again, sigh).
I don't know whether you've ever had a scan at 7-8 weeks, but even since my first pregnancy with Lily, technology has moved on. As part of the scan he can now listen to the heartbeat, which thundered through the echography room like a steady drum.
And it occurred to me that, all being well, that little heart will not miss a beat for perhaps as much as 100 years or more.
I'm tired. I feel sick. I feel hungry, but don't know what to eat. I'm worried about each milestone, about possible PND, about this that and (of course) the other.
But sod that.
I am so, frickin lucky.