Guess how many kids are the result of ‘happy accidents’? Go on, guess.
When I called my doctor to confess that I’d accidentally fallen pregnant he said, “Jo, 80 percent of my business is the result of accidents.”
I felt instantly better.
I already had a five-year-old and an eight-month-old when I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me as I attempted to wash breakfast dishes in the kitchen. I immediately knew that I was pregnant. And I was horrified.
We’d just lost every single cent, plus my husband’s business, our home and a car to bankruptcy. We had no money to support another child and were having trouble feeding the two we did have (both boys and both oblivious to the reason behind our hasty move to a crappy house closer to my family).
I put the boys in the car and drove to the chemist to buy a pregnancy test. I was already crying – hormones and horror merging together. I took the test as soon as I got home. When it came up positive, something strange happened. I felt a enormous surge of joy wash over me and I smiled the first real smile since our financial woes began.
I phoned my husband to share the amazing news. I blurted out, "I'm pregnant", and he said, "I'm thrilled".
My daughter was an accident. Actually, I try not to use that word because whenever I call her an accident people seem shocked, but she was. Don't worry, I'm not planning to tell her she was an accident. I know what teenage girls are like. She's five now, but if I tell her my secret in ten years time, every time we'll fight she'll say, "You didn't even want me," and wail like a lunatic before slamming her bedroom door in my face.
So, I won't tell her and when I tell the story to others I will use one of the following expressions instead: