The Secret Guide To Motherhood

Prologue - Fight or flight?

You know that biochemical reaction that materialises during moments of intense stress or fear?
When we’re faced with these earth shattering and life changing moments, our body’s natural reaction will be one of two things; fight, or flight.

Now I’ve always considered myself to be a strong and independent woman, not that I’m your cliché, run of the mill, man hating feminist or anything but I’ve always perceived myself to be tough, smart.

I can handle myself.

I, somewhat naively, thought that should I ever find myself in a scary situation where I was no longer in control, my natural instinct would kick in and I would fight. Laugh in the face of danger. After all, I’ve have often put myself in these situations.

But this is not the same as sneaking into my head teachers back garden back in college and skinny dipping in his pool with my friends.

This is not the rush I experienced the time I slipped a HoneyLove Mac lipstick into my pocket in the store because I didn’t want to spend £15 on something I’d probably only ever wear once.

And it certainly is not the same as the adrenaline rush I felt when I did my first ever bungee jump in central London – and that was utterly terrifying.

This, well this is something altogether different.

I’ve heard many people speak of those moments in your life that take your breath away.

Where time freezes and the world melts away and you no longer feel earth bound.
Where your pulse throbs in your ears and it almost sounds like the calm lull of the ocean, pulling you into its tranquillity.

Although I suppose the circumstances you’re in change this slightly, as right now all I’m hearing is the brutal crashing of waves and I certainly don’t feel tranquil, quite the opposite really.

See, I am four weeks pregnant.

Well, there about anyway.

All the tell-tale signs were staring me right in the face – the nausea and the vomiting, the breast tenderness, the fact I was picking up smells that half the canine unit would miss, the period; or lack of for that matter – and yet it had not occurred to me. It had not crossed my mind that I could be growing a tiny little being inside of me.

If I could only make sense of it all; just create a single coherent thought in this scrambled brain of mine.

But the crashing of waves is growing louder, filling my ears. My heart is beating so fast, I swear it could literally jump out of my chest. My palms are sweating. And that rush of adrenaline I’ve always loved; it’s different.

It’s making me sick. Or is it this thing inside me? Or is it just the guilt? Whatever it is, it’s taking over my every thought, and I am going to hurl.

It is not the fear of raising a child alone that draws up this dread inside of me. I have a wonderful husband who would adore just the very thought of a child - beginning a family -, never mind the real life thing.

The problem lies here; I don’t know if my husband is the father.

I am not a bad person.

I would never intentionally do anything to hurt Ethan.

Never.

He is, for all intensive purposes, the love of my life. My childhood sweetheart.

Twelve long years I have devoted myself to this man. I made one mistake. One ludicrous and nonsensical mistake. Just once. And now it threatens to unravel my entire life at the seams.

Those two pink lines are just staring up at me and as I take a deep breath. The crashing of waves in my ears subsides and the world slowly starts to fall back into place.

The earth continues turning.

After all, why would the world stop for Molly Harris’ mistake?

Fight or flight Molly?