(without him even knowing it)
A little more than five years ago now I was a bit miffed. Well quite a lot miffed actually.
The husband and I had been trying (unsuccessfully) to get pregnant for just over a year.
Just over a year in earth time, but not GP time. You see had I been an average woman, in that particular calender year I would have tried and failed to get pregnant 13 times. But I'm not an average woman, quite a bit below (or above, never really figured that one out) average so in that particular calender year I tried and failed to get pregnant a mere 10 times.
Now, not being particularly well known for my patience, I hatched a cunning plan to make Murphy's Law work for me.
I sat myself down and thought about it. What are the things a pregnant woman shouldn't do?
Well they're not supposed to fly or at least not before 12 weeks anyway. Ok, so I'll book a holiday, but where to?
Well, pregnant women aren't supposed to drink alcohol either or not copious amounts of it anyway.
They shouldn't really carry heavy things either, so that would be mammoth shopping sprees out too.
They should eat a healthy and balance diet, so nine months worth of burgers smothered in blue cheese would be off the menu.
A four hour horse ride into, oh I don't know say the bottom of the Grand Canyon would probably not be the best idea in the world for a pregnant woman.
I settled myself down in front of the laptop, bank card at the ready and booked a one week trip to Vegas which was due to fly out in exactly 12 weeks. I wrote down the addresses for completely inappropriate places like Margaritaville and advance booked helicopter flights over the strip.
Twelve weeks later I stepped on a ten hour flight, ten weeks pregnant.
Murphy me old son, you done yourself proud!!!
Sure, it was a bit of a gamble. I could have blown £1100 on a holiday and had nothing to show for it but a few holiday snaps.....
I think it was £1100 well spent, don't you?