Finding out I was pregnant wasn't in the plan.
But then, when is it ever?
We had a vision of what the next few years looked like — a couple of years of van life just the two of us, saving hard, getting a mortgage eventually, having a house ready before we started a family. Sensible. Orderly. The kind of plan that makes sense on paper.
We were halfway through the build when I found out. And there's something I need to tell you first, before I get to the test, because it matters to the story.
The diagnosis nobody takes seriously
I have Adenomyosis. I also have fibroids, and was midway through investigations for Endometriosis when all of this happened — because my periods had become so severe they were starting to affect my attendance at work.
If you have any of these conditions, you already know. You know what it is to have your pain dismissed, minimised, shrugged off. My workplace did exactly that — as if I was being dramatic, as if any of this was a choice. I want to be very clear: I most certainly was not being dramatic. There were occasions the pain was so severe I had to call an ambulance to my mum's house. I was offered morphine. It didn't touch the sides.
There isn't a lot of support for these conditions. There isn't much sympathy either, in my experience. And so I got used to managing quietly, getting on with it, not talking about it much.
Since starting this blog, I've realised it's been something like therapy. Some of what I'm writing here I've never shared with family, or even some of my closest friends. There's something about putting it into words — knowing it might reach someone going through the same thing — that is quietly helping me. If you are living with Adenomyosis, fibroids, or Endometriosis, my thoughts are genuinely with you. You are not being a wimp. You are not exaggerating. It is exactly as hard as you know it is.
The reason I'm telling you this is because it's why a pregnancy felt so unexpected. Conceiving, let alone carrying a baby to full term, was something I had been told could be difficult for me. I had made a kind of quiet peace with uncertainty about it.
And then.
Talek knew before I did
I was complaining one day — nothing unusual — about my breasts feeling sore and feeling bloated and horrible. Talek looked at me and said, very calmly: "Do a test. I think you might be pregnant."
I was reeling. We hadn't been actively trying. It wasn't the right time. The van was half-built. My career situation was complicated. We were dividing our time between our parents' houses and the van. It was genuinely not the right time.
Before I'd even finished taking the test, the screen had flashed up: Pregnant. 2–3 weeks.
I stood there staring at it for a long time.
I'm not going to pretend it was an immediately joyful moment. It was shock, mostly. Disbelief. A kind of strange stillness. Four months or so on, I'm not sure it's fully sunk in yet — but we're nearly halfway through now, and we find out the gender in a couple of weeks. That has helped. Knowing there is a him or a her on the other side of all this, a specific small person we're going to meet. It has given us something to step up for, whatever else is going on in the world or in our lives.
This little ray of sunshine, bump, we can't wait to meet you.
What early pregnancy actually felt like
I'll be honest: the beginning was interesting because I didn't really feel pregnant. Some bloating, some soreness, but I only started to show a bump at 16 weeks. The one thing I have genuinely struggled with is exhaustion — and I say this as someone who normally walks about 25km a day at work. The tiredness has been a different kind of thing altogether.
I didn't have significant morning sickness, which I am grateful for. What I did have was a tendency to feel quite sick in the middle of the night when I hadn't eaten since tea time. Talek would very patiently make me toast and a drink at two in the morning, and I'd suck a ginger sweet and settle back down. He has been — continues to be — quietly brilliant about all of it.
Sleep in the first trimester was difficult. It has improved significantly into the second, which is a relief.
Van life, pregnancy, and the logistics of not having one fixed address
Not sleeping in the same place every night has been its own particular challenge. I'd forget vitamins, or my drinks bottle, or tummy oil, and get flustered. I have a pattern now — a mental checklist of what I need to grab whenever I'm moving between mum's and the van — but it took a while to settle into it.
A tip if you're pregnant and considering van life: make sure you have a fixed address to be registered at. Some letters from the midwife and hospital are physical documents you need to bring to appointments. Not everything is available digitally or on the NHS app. There may be classes to sign up for locally. Having a family member or friend's address makes this significantly easier — use that support if you have it.
Tilly
Tilly has been calmer around me throughout all of this. She doesn't jump up the way she used to. She seems to understand, in her way, why I can't always take her on the long walks we used to do.
I am fairly certain she knew before Talek told me to do the test. I don't have scientific evidence for this. I don't need it.
She is looking after me. And I am very grateful.
— Wild Coast Mama