Prior to getting pregnant, I’d perfectly planned out the way I’d tell my husband when it happened. The idea involved a pair of wedding ducks I was given on my hen night, which now live on a shelf in our bathroom. I’d found a mini-duck in a shop in Crystal Palace and post-positive result, I would place it on the shelf, then ever-so-subtly point it out for the big reveal (it took months to finally happen, giving me ample time to over-think ridiculous things like this). However, it turns out subtlety is not my strong point and when the second line appeared, all previous plans flew out of the window and I just ended up just giving Alex the test and bursting into tears. Continue reading Pregnancy week 23: duck!