More Signs ...of the Preggers Kind

I'm no walking pregnancy test, but I'm close to it.

I kid you not, I have an inbuilt duff radar.

I have diagnosed pregnancies before the mothers themselves have realised.

Truth.

I can sniff that HGC out a mile away, baby.

In case you can't secure a pregnancy detection appointment with me in the short term, I'll give you a few pointers to tide you over.

Some indicators/confirmation that you might just be up the duff :


At 2pm your eye lids become eye leads - that take monumental effort to prop up.


You fall asleep in the car if a trip takes longer than 5 minutes (hopefully not when driving).


When driving and stopped at the lights, you close your eyes 'for a second' to be jolted awake by the horn behind.


You go into the bedroom to get changed and somehow fall asleep - every day.


You are inundated by egg burps - but can't handle the thought of actually eating eggs.


You very nearly burn the house down because you forgot you were toasting a baked bean sandwich - that you don't really feel like eating anymore anyway.


The family dog becomes your very own affectionate, overly-protective bodyguard.
In fact, dogs everywhere seem to be taking a shine to you.


You buy two perfectly lovely anniversary cards for friends and proceed to throw them in the bin by accident.

You find household items in the strangest places - and have an inkling you may have put them there.


Your taste buds betray you.
A firm favourite 'Top Deck' may as well be called 'Ble Bleh' for all it's rubbery milk solids nothingness all of a sudden. You can't even distinguish the white chocolate from the milk and enjoy the fusion of flavours.
(So you graduate to dark chocolate, naturally.)


You turn your blog site feed off to correct an error - and forget to turn it back on
- a number of times.


A couple of nice mounds appear on the front of your previously deflated chest.
They're breasts. They're lovely. Enjoy.


Words that refer to 'you know', the 'thing' or 'whatshisname' are really hard to remember.


You happily let Hubby hang out the washing - even though you know he won't follow your tried and tested washing line protocol.


Alcohol becomes like poison, beer breath makes you gag and flat lemonade is your 'holy water'.


Icy poles become a cold, crunchy, juicy food group in their own right.


You notice every single baby bump, baby, pram, stroller, bassinet, toy, Baby Rocket food making contraption, little singlet, Bumper Babython sale within a hundred kilometre radius.


You smile stupidly all the time. Even at inappropriate times.


Going to the gym is no longer about  exercise and socialisation.
It's an exercise in not sharing your breakfast with fellow members - even when the old guy on the rower next door is doubling your pace.


You contemplate those 'my family' stickers again. Don't do it.


Everyone and everything reeks. They're absolutely foul - the lot of them.


Looking at, let alone handling, raw meat is akin to torture and can induce big sooky tears.
The effect is doubled if blood is visible.


You voluntarily wear two ridiculous looking acupuncture bands on your wrists - and contemplate leaving the house with them on.
 Yes, it is that stupid looking. No, you will not simply pass as 'sporty'.


Your three old asks you 'why you not like woine anymore, Mummy?"


Some indicators your Hubby might just be up the duff/duff affected :
(or really pathetic and lazy)

He needs a nap every day.


He complains of stomach upsets.


He yawns continuously.


He actually offers to hang out the washing.


He smiles stupidly all the time too.


He smells funny.


He leaves his glasses in his lunchbox and the running hose in the pool all night long.


He returns your messages.


He doesn't mind the sweatband things.



So, if four or more of these attributes describe you - start clucking.
Or there's always that pee on the stick thingy that some people tend to trust.

Dr. Shar :-)