What next?

'Tis the middle of the night and I've not been able to sleep. (Having said that, I've not got anything else done either. I could have done the washing up, the ironing, fixed the shelf, tidied the garage- oh, and worked on the essay I'm supposed to be doing this week.) My mind is spinning and numb at the same time. I did manage to feed the cats and watch a few moments of telly. I had a bath. (At nearly two o'clock!)

Not sure how comfortable I am with the story we've made up to keep up the pretence. Well, not the story itself - the motives for its use. I told Mum and Mum, and Mrs T's employer, about the supposed Ovarian Cyst but they all asked questions I couldn't easily answer (especially her Mum). I'm wondering why we don't just let people know. After all, telling people about a pregnancy doesn't reveal the secret that we've been trying all this time; it could just as easily have been an accidental pregnancy.

One thing I have done is go round the house and make sure that all the books and leaflets and hospital notes about pregnancy have been gathered up so they're not all over the house when Mrs T comes home. Do I hide them away in a drawer? Will she want to try again soon? (The doctor advised against trying straight away and told us to use contreception for a couple of months to give her body time to recover from the surgery - and indeed the pregnancy.)

I really am tired now: my eyes are drifting off and struggling to focus. Perhaps I'll have another go at sleeping...