Ugly barbie stole my boyfriend©

My title has always been what I am going to call my autobiography when I get around to writing it.  I feel the need to put it somewhere and say that it is mine after last night when TV pissed me right off again.  Yet another reason that I wish I had never had the bloody thing installed.  So, you know how the best way to write is to draw from personal experience.  Well I was going to write about my pregnancy at some point because it was an unusual situation and not really run of the mill.

To those of you with an awful, soul sapping box you may have tuned into Catastrophe on channel four last night. If not, SPOILER ALERT!!!! The premise of episode one is a couple meet in a bar, have lots of clothes rending, steamy shags, the guys goes back to America (where he is from) she finds out that she is pregnant.  He comes back to the UK to support her.  She has a dodgy smear test come back with pre cancerous cells, and hilarity ensues.

Now I don’t know either of the writers, Rob Delaney or Sharon Horgan, but THEY STOLE MY EXPERIENCES!!!  Ok, so not exactly, lovely boyfriend is not American and we had been together for three months when I would have fallen pregnant.  And she was not told that she was infertile so she found out much earlier than I did.  I was twelve weeks gone before a xray to find out why my back was ruined (still an unresolved mystery) made me do a precautionary test ( which I threw a massive strop over having to do, accused them of being totally insensitive bastards etc, then cried for half an hour when it was positive).   But apart from that it is my story.  So if for the rest of the series she falls out with consultants and refuses surgery during her pregnancy so as to not risk the baby, then one of them was totally sitting behind me when I was telling a friend about this.

Now if I do write about my time going through all of this it will not be original.  Don’t worry by the way, I was totally right to tell that consultant to piss off.  They are not supposed to mess with your cervix while you are up the duff.  But as I hadn’t known I had gone for a scheduled check up.  Everything goes a bit weird down there when you are preggers.  Because they don’t see many women in the stirrups during that time they are not used to what can happen.  I went back eight weeks after having my baby and got retested. After my behaviour when I was pregnant he had back up of a nervous lady who kept on trying to warn me that I might need a biopsy and he waited until I was in the chair before coming in the room. ( I can be quite a forceful person when people attempt to get me to do things that I don’t want to). I am all good and healthy and hadn’t needed a general anesthetic or any bits of me cut off after all.  I was the worst kind of smug about it, quite a feat for someone in stirrups with speculum in and giant vagina binoculars poised.  But I managed it.  “So I WAS RIGHT, hmmmmm?  Oh good, aren’t you glad that I put my foot down, (smugest smile EVER)  well I do know my own body.”  Consultant countered with, “well sometimes these things can be invisible to the eye so I will send off a swab just to make sure.” ( looks like he could punch me a bit) I counter with “But the visible things that you said you could see before have all completely gone, right, like I said they would. ( thunderously smug )  I am sure you won’t be seeing me again.  I know I have a smashing lady garden but I am not coming just to show it off to you.”  Consultant is pink with annoyance and maybe a smattering of amusement, “well we shall see”  Me (unable to just shut up and leave it alone)  “yes we will ”

All results are clear.  Smug, smug, Smugginton the first in her crown of smugness, ruler of the smug lands and all who annoyingly live in them.

But what is the point in writing all about this when someone else has, and sold it to sodding channel four?!  Bastards.  So I will tell you all about ugly barbie one day.  She was my greatest frenemy, although it took me a long time to realise and several boyfriends.  But listen here story stealers.  It’s MY title, you cant have it. MINE.  I am meeting a friend for lunch today, do not follow me!!  It’s my ridiculous, soap opera life and I am the one who should be able to make royalties off it!

So maybe I am not the only woman who has ever gone through this, maybe neither of them did hear me bemoaning my situation.  But really what are the chances!  Stupid bloody TV.  And the worst thing, I really enjoyed watching it, it’s written so well, I laughed lots.  I will probably watch the whole series.

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