I was going to have this a BBQ thread, pitting the horror of accidental pregnancies. But I would probably make it sound a little lame and undeserving of a pit. So MPSIMS it is.
So my girlfriend is pregnant, and just six more weeks and she’ll be past the supposed danger period when the embryo’s future is uncertain. And after that who knows? She sent me an email a little over a week ago explaining why she had been in a bit of a mood with me. A lot of stress over quite a few things, including a late period. So even though I was invited to stay over for the week, I was told not to come over after only two days, and my stuff was rather uncerimoniously dumped back at my place by car, along with the sundry items I’d left at hers to make staying over easier (which I think was a bit much, she could have just binned them, a toothbrush and shower gel)
Then a text message bolt out of the blue, she’s pregnant. Since I’m at home, the other side of the country (ok, its only Northern Ireland, but its still a long enough hike) I’m told over the phone to wait till the next week, but I go over the next day to see her. She seems ok, a little tired and sick, but smiles to see me and berates me for coming over, even though I’m responsible for the kid to be inside her, she still says I’m making her horny. But then, two days later, after a doctor’s appointment and a hospital scan (slight bit of bleeding, the embryo’s future is uncertain, possibly because of g/fs age, early 40s) I’m told not to come over, not even to pick up keys I left at hers. Text messages become increasingly terse and her friends (two of whom work with me) get the same treatment.
I’m worried, for her health, the embryo’s health, her and me, but I think she has more worries than I. She’s in her early 40s and has two kids already to two different Dads who didn’t stick around. The father of the first child on hearing that she was pregnant, tore off on his motorcycle so fast the engine seized. The father of the second child accompanied her all the way to England for an abortion that was called off at the last minute, the result being her second, youngest child.
Her kids don’t mind, the elder thought it was quite funny, despite being pregnant herself with a baby that is months older than the embryo inside her mum.
So I’ve no idea what will happen, she’s made reference to doing things alone before (meaning raising two kids as a single mum) so I may end up simply being a Dad who dished out some cash at the start of every month and then pisses off. Or the embryo may perish and I’ve suspicion that would be the end of girlfriend and me.
Still, a thought, in the space of one year I’ve gone from a 25 year old virgin who’s never had a girlfriend to a prospective father to be. Amusing that I, someone from the far side of the country in a small town ends up losing it in the same council estate my girlfriend did 20 odd years ago.
BTW, the thread title comes from the leaflets given out in a Simpson episode, not that I beleive a kid would ruin my life. Beneath the worry and uncertainty, a bit of me would like to think I would enjoy the experience of being a Dad 
