I lost my baby boy at 31 weeks of pregnancy in February 2013. My heart shattered into a million pieces that weekend in February. I knew that I wanted the chance to bring home another live, healthy baby in my arms. I had some medical issues that would concern doctors during a uncomplicated pregnancy and would put me at high risk if, and that at the time was a big if I was able to get pregnant, and could I make it past the second trimester. I had doctors who supported my decision to try again, but my body wasn't co operating. 2015. I got pregnant, straight on the medication I needed, lots of blood tests. Got a horrible sinking feeling something went wrong at the 6 week stage, bleeding at 8 weeks. At 9weeks of pregnancy, got a scan and no heartbeat was found. I choose the d&c operation, I couldn't deal with seeing the miscarriage blood for days. I tried to convince myself to give up, move on. Wasn't an easy thing to do, but the depression and sadness wasn't fair to my 6 year old son. He needed his mummy who was always sad, in his mind. About 6 months later, I was having a scan. This time, I had a strong heart beat on screen. The pregnancy was extremely high risk, consultant led, daily injections, scans every 2 weeks from 18 weeks. No guarantees of a good outcome. Planned c section at 38 weeks. Healthy baby girl. I was lucky, I got the chance to have my happy ever after. Was it worth the heartache and infertility caused by stress - yes Was it worth the terrifying 34 weeks of pregnancy- yes Do I miss and wish the baby boy I lost at 31 weeks was here - every day For me, being bloody minded and stubborn worked out for me. Question: How old is the writer? Options: A. 30 B. not enough information C. 20 D. 40 === The correct answer is
B

(Question)
Despite my blog name, I'm not actually all that adventurous. Think more suburban adventure rather than skydiving or wild camping. But, over the years I have ended up overcoming a few challenges that I hadn't precisely expected to be faced with. This blog has always been, and will forever more be a record of my personal adventures. It is a journal of the chaos, delight, opportunities and travails that we encounter all rolled in with an obsession for photography (as far as my skillz extend) and a dash of humour (well, I try anyway). DRIVING IN AMERICA Covering 800 miles of American freeways in less than 10 days is something I never thought I'd do to be honest an inexperienced driver at best I've driven short distances (and through a Florida tropical storm from Cape Canaveral back to our Orlando apartment) but somehow we survived unscathed driving diagonally the length of Louisiana from New Orleans to Shreveport, through the crazy traffic of Dallas and along the long, undulating motorways of Texas. I'll be honest, and admit that did we encounter a couple of challenging and scary situations a truck driver changing lanes not allowing me enough time to enter a motorway (I luckily just popped into a shoulder lane), getting lost in the middle of Dallas skyscrapers (we jammed every device we had onto navigation), accidentally assuming a road was much narrower than it really was (luckily the road was relatively quiet so I just guided her nimbly over to the correct lane) and dodging some of the twits who pulled out in front of us one with a trailer full of wood but overall it really was fine. COMMUNICATING IN OTHER LANGUAGES You've decided where to go, booked the flight, found a hotel, decided what to do and then you get to your destination. And, if you're exploring outside the traditional western world, you probably won't speak the local language and the locals may or may not depending on how far outside the tourist traps you venture. Question: The author probably no longer thinks: Options: A. That they are not that adventurous. B. That their reader's find them funny. C. not enough information D. That they are an inexperienced driver. === The correct answer is
(Answer)
D

Ques: November always dragged around the station, but today was one dead Sunday. Not one car pulled off the interstate all morning. Nothing hit the drive but a thin steady rain, puddling slow rainbows in the oil. Me and Harnie just tilted back our chairs against the cigarette rack, watched the monster movie, and waited for the game to start. The big flying turtle was about set to barbeque downtown Tokyo when the drive bell rang, and up sluiced a car so damn gorgeous it hurt to look at it. A '37 Buick Roadmaster it was, painted a red so rich it was nearly black, that straight eight engine whispering like a lover while teardrops of rain rolled down the chrome grill. Out climbed this tall fellow, dressed like God's grandpa done up for a wedding or a funeral. His skin was brown as a buckwheat cake, with creases deep as drainage ditches. Took a mighty long stretch of sweat and toil, love and birth and dying, to carve a face like that. He flexed his shoulders, then rolled his neck till it cracked. He pulled a pack of Camel straights from inside his vest and flipped one out. "Got a light?" His voice was deep and warm, half gravel, half honey. I tossed him a pack of matches through the open door; he caught it left-handed, then flipped it open, folded over a match, and struck it with his thumb. "This the town with the dead fiddler?" he said after a long drag on the smoke. "You might say so," I said, ignoring the look Harnie gave me. Nobody talked about her; I wondered how this fellow had even heard about her. "Ain't a fiddle, though. It's a cello, like in the symphony." The stranger shrugged. "Close enough." "She ain't d-dead, neither," Harnie said. "M-more sleeping, like." He puffed out a wreath of smoke. Then another. "Let's go wake her up," he said. "You best not try, mister," I said. "She been sleeping for thirty some year." Question: What is true of the man with the car? Options: A. not enough information B. he is rich C. he smokes D. he has a gun === The correct answer is
Ans:
C