You sit on the toilet with the box in your hands and your PJs and panties round your ankles. This is only the third time you've been to the toilet since 'the change' and it still feels weird. You take out the leaflet and read.

Test can be taken up to four days before period is due... blah blah blah ... hold the tip in the urine stream for five seconds ... blah ... wait three to five minutes ... blah blaaaaaah ... a plus sign means the test is positive.

Right, simple enough. You're sure the rest of the instructions weren't important, or at least won't apply to your special snowflake situation. You rip open the foil packet and take the cap off the end. Ok, now you just need to pee on it. Easy.

You wait.

And wait.

And... wait.

"For fuck's sake," you think to yourself. You downed the rest of your OJ and a glass of water before coming upstairs. It's been like fifteen minutes since, and you last 'went' the night before. This should be easy.

You try to still the butterflies in your tummy, and use the age-old trick of turning on the tap. And relax...

There. One... two... three... four... five...

Done. Set countdown on phone: three minutes.

What follows is the longest three minutes of your short life. You stand up and flush, and pace around a bit. You do normal stuff - brush your teeth, floss... mouthwash...

"Hmm if that's all clocking in at less than three minutes, I'm really not doing it properly," you say to yourself.

At last your phone goes off, making a hell of a racket on the glass shelf. You pick up the test.

And, of course...

+

PREGNANT