31 Weeks

I'm 31 weeks today! There’s definitely something about passing the 30-week mark that makes you think that from now on, EVERYTHING has to be about the baby. I’m sure this is also because I’m now on maternity leave, so I’ve got very little in the way of day-job-work to distract me. Anyway, being 31 weeks has suddenly got me all in a flap about the fact that the baby will be full-term and therefore may be born at any time in only SIX WEEKS. Squeak!

Everyone I’ve spoken to has said that first-time babies are always born late, so I had almost resigned myself to not having Chip until September. But then I googled it and discovered that statistically first-time babies are as likely to be early as they are late, so that’s a load of nonsense. Also, with my placenta issue, if I haven’t had him/her by 41 weeks they will induce me, which means that he/she will definitely be born by 2 September! A very strange thought.

I’ve had mixed reactions about my August due date, with some people saying they hope I’ll hang on so the baby is born in the next school year so that he/she isn’t the least developed (read: most stupid) in their class, and others pointing out that an August baby means one year less of childcare for me (as the baby will be going to school almost a year earlier than babies born a week later). Truth is I actually don’t care at all when Chip is born. I just want him/her to be healthy and for me not to rip in half during labour. Oh and for my feet to go back to normal after (more on that later).

Anyway, my first week of maternity leave has been lovely, and basically felt like a mini holiday. I’ve been out seeing friends a lot for lunches, brunches and dinners, and generally just pottering about. I even went back to John Lewis’s baby department again, but this time with my Mum. Sadly it was no more successful than my previous trip. In fact the only difference was this time it was my Mum saying ‘Oh it’s all a bit overwhelming’ as we wandered around marvelling at all the baby nail scissors and bibs and stuff. Again we left empty-handed, save for a helpful 'John Lewis Baby' brochure of ALL THE THINGS I WILL NEED. It’s on the coffee table. Progress.

We did also go to JoJo Maman Bebe however, where I found it impossible to resist this little rattle. Despite my Mum saying ‘Charlotte, people will BUY you things like that, you shouldn’t buy them yourself!’ But... where’s the fun in that?

I’ll probably do a separate post on the bits we have bought so far, but suffice to say that I feel we’re getting there on the clothing front - the only part of baby shopping that doesn’t freak me out. Although who knows if August babies need long or short sleeved baby grows? I’ve got a mixture of both just in case… (I’m also still slightly confused as to the difference between a sleep suit and a baby grow but hopefully all will become clear at some point).

But enough about the baby, back to ME. I’ve had some new symptoms again this week, which I shall now moan about for your reading pleasure and my future self’s nostalgia:

1) Crazy dreams. This may be due to us finally beginning to watch Game of Thrones (yes yes, I know, eighty years late to the party) but my dreams are so far off the sane-scale these days that I’m starting to become concerned. They don’t make any sense at all. Last night I was in a 4x4 being washed through a tsunami in the Devonshire countryside on my way to an interiors photoshoot. I think this may be a weird hybrid of issues in my life at the moment: the possible need for a new safer car (although I hate 4x4s with a passion), the possibility of moving out of London (although Devon is certainly not on the list of potentials, much as I’d love it to be), the fact the house we had an offer accepted on last week has flooding issues (we’ve pulled out), and well, me missing a big photoshoot for one of our clients due to being on mat leave. Just weird. Every morning I’ve woken up and gabbled, all excited like a five-year-old, ‘I had the weirdest dream!’ to Oli, who this morning made me laugh by replying ‘Yes, well tell me after I’ve been to the gym’. Message received loud and clear: other people’s dreams are BORING. Ahem. Moving on then…

2) For the last three days, my hands and feet have been really stiff and puffy when I wake up in the morning. I googled this and apparently I have rheumatoid arthritis. Of course, I don’t have rheumatoid arthritis because I’m pregnant, and so instead I have carpal tunnel syndrome. Not nice. I have to flex my hands and wrists for a good few minutes to try to get them to loosen up after I wake up - I literally have no grip otherwise. Annoying. And much sympathy now for those who do have rheumatoid arthritis.

3) My feet continue to upset me. My poor feet! My feet will never be the same again!! They are elephant feet. I hate them and they hate me. I miss my old, slightly bony, vein-riddled feet SO much. I miss my shoes! I’m actually praying to the god of feet that these fluid-filled bags of skin return to their normal size and shape after Chip is born because I can’t bear to spend the rest of my life looking down at such squidgy monstrosities.

4) And finally, I am definitely feeling BIGGER. I feel like a proper pregnant person now, and have started to wear my bump and my awkward waddle-walk with pride. I am using this as an excuse to eat more too (resistance to massive weight gain is now futile). My appetite is huge and seems to require at least two ice creams a day. A few weeks ago I discovered a wondrous thing known as ‘maternal fat stores’ which are apparently key to you having enough energy to breastfeed when your baby is first born. Basically I’m allowed around an extra 3kg of fat on my body by the time I’m full term. So now, whenever I sneak to the freezer for another Cornetto and Oli gives me a look, all I have to say to him is ‘maternal fat stores!’ and he rolls his eyes and leaves me alone. This bit of pregnancy I am getting on with quite well…

30 Weeks

Apologies for the pyjama bottoms, but I AM ON MATERNITY LEAVE! I SHALL NEVER GET DRESSED AGAIN!

As you may (or may not) have noticed, I didn't manage to do a 29 week post last week. It was my last week at work, and everything was just rather crazy. So this post is going to be a bit of a double whammy, with random musings from the past fortnight.

So! I'm 30 weeks pregnant and Baby Chip is now the size of a cabbage. Don't I know it. I think I look like I've swallowed a basketball today. It's quite impressive. And more excitingly, yesterday a complete stranger asked me when I was due. I haven't actually had anyone try and rub my stomach yet though, which is probably a good thing and means my resting bitch face continues to do its job.

Anyway it's day three of maternity leave and I'm already twitchy - I don't really like not having anywhere specific to 'go' in the mornings, and I'm thinking I need to get into some kind of routine. Exercise could be good, given that my love affair with prenatal yoga was rather short-lived (I kept missing classes because of various work/social life things - whoops). I thought swimming might be a good idea but first of all I need to get over my phobia of public swimming pools. I'm considering investing in a yoga DVD to do at home but my motivation to exercise at home has never been great so I can imagine this may be doomed to failure too.

Symptoms-wise, it's been a mixed bag lately. The most annoying and most horrible thing are my swollen feet. At the end of the day they are just SO big now, and I can no longer fit into ANY of my shoes. Flip-flops are my only option. But of course flip-flops aren't great for your back, so after a long time walking around in them I'm in quite a lot of pain. The swelling doesn't really seem to improve much no matter what I do either. I had hoped that it was the sort of thing that would disappear the second I give birth, but one of my friends told me she still has one swollen foot eight months after her daughter was born! Eeek.

Other than that, I've been feeling really tired and not sleeping well at all - instead I've been having a weird half-sleep where I am sort of conscious but not fully. The weird dreams continue, but luckily I forget most of them by the time I wake up...

Some nicer things: Chip is moving about all the time these days and I can tell he/she is getting much stronger, which is lovely. I can also tell when he/she has changed positions. One of his/her favourite positions, it would seem, is sitting directly on my bladder, giving it random little kicks every so often and making me absolutely convinced that I'm about to wet myself. It's a very weird feeling: being completely desperate for the loo all of a sudden, but only for a few seconds before he/she shifts out of the way and the sensation disappears.

Talking of going to the loo (sorry), I now do approximately six drops of wee every time I go. It's like my bladder has shrunk to the size of a thimble. Weird.

But back to the good things: we have ordered the car seat, car seat fixer thing, bedside cot and buggy! I also bought my hospital bag this week - I was in town and saw this (not so) little beauty in Oliver Bonas and decided to treat myself, even though I thought it was probably a bit early. Ironically my 30-week pregnancy email from Bounty then informed me that now was a good time to start packing my hospital bag! So maybe not too early after all. I'm now watching endless hours of YouTube videos on 'what's in my hospital bag' from other pregnant ladies - the list of things needed is pretty extensive. So far I have:

a battery-operated fan (randomly picked up for £1 in PC World, so no doubt will not work by August) two baby grows a dressing gown

So yes, still some progress to be made on that front methinks.

I had my 28 week midwife check up last week, which was much better than expected actually. My blood pressure is back down to my normal levels (phew) and although I'm still measuring 2cm behind, the midwife said that this wasn't anything to worry about. She did, however, worry me by introducing me to the world of the perineum massage, and suggesting that I might like to start doing this to myself. If you don't know what it is, I suggest you google it. Or don't google it, depending on your squeamishness levels.

An alternative to the perineum massage is even more alarming: the Epi-No. Here's a picture:

I'll leave your imagination to fill in the blanks about how this little device works. Not cheap at £90 (and clearly not something you can resale afterwards) the Epi-No sounds like a REALLY fun way to spend an hour or so every day, don't you think? I guess once the baby's born it might be useful for inflating their first birthday party balloons. Sarcasm aside, I am actually considering it, although can't help fearing that I'll blow myself up or something.

On a more vain front, I've finally had my roots done, and am feeling much more like my old self. I am not sure I've talked about this before, but since getting pregnant my skin is so much more sensitive. I've had to completely change my normal skincare routine, and then when I last had my hair done, I had an allergic reaction to the organic Aveda colour I've used for about eight months now, and developed some really attractive scabs on one side of my scalp.

So I put off getting my roots done for as long as I could bear it, and then decided to go back to my original chemical-laden L'Oreal dye when it all got too much. I had it done on Monday and so far, no reaction at all. I do genuinely believe that organic products are pretty bloody awful for your skin - I had a huge allergic reaction to Neal's Yard skincare many years ago and clearly my body now also doesn't like Aveda. Shame, because organic stuff smells much nicer, but I'll be sticking to peroxide from now on.

On another note, did anyone notice their hair getting darker while they were pregnant? My roots this time seemed almost black, which was a little distressing. Am hoping it's just a temporary change.

And finally: I have STILL not had any Braxton Hicks. I am feeling left out. If any other mothers hadn't had any by the time they were 30 weeks, please do come forth and share. Apparently it doesn't matter that I haven't had any but it does make me wonder if I will be chronically underrehearsed for the big event at this rate...

28 Weeks

I'm 28 weeks today and edging ever closer to 30 weeks, which to me sounds VERY far along. Squeak! Best of all, I am firmly in my third trimester now, and the baby picture on my baby app looks like a proper baby with podgy little legs and arms. I celebrated my 28 week milestone with a growth scan, which I had this morning.

However, I stupidly spent last night reading Amanda Holden's autobiography (bear with me on this, but it was all related to the fact that I'm a die-hard Corrie fan, and couldn't believe that Les Dennis was once married to her, so I bought it on my Kindle for 99p to find out more). Anyway, what I hadn't realised was that poor Amanda had lost her baby at 28 weeks completely unexpectedly, so of course I spent the entire night fretting about what was in store for me.

Be warned: do not read Amanda Holden's autobiography when you're pregnant. The poor woman has been through hell and back and my heart goes out to her.

Maybe that's why I was extra emotional today, or maybe it was just tiredness, but anyway I got quite teary eyed watching Chip kicking about and curled up and generally looking perfectly happy. More mindblowing stuff this week - his/her eyes were actually open on the ultrasound! I knew they open for the first time around 27 weeks but it was actually so amazing to see them there so clearly, staring at us from the screen. He/she even blinked at one point and was swallowing more amniotic fluid (seems to enjoy doing this, weird).

We didn't have our nice sonographer this time but another chap (who didn't give us a free picture, meanie), but he was perfectly kind, if a little matter-of-fact, and patiently explained all the various bits and pieces we were looking at. As usual, our baby had his/her legs curled up around its head - certainly way more flexible than me at the moment.

Growth wise, everything looked absolutely fine, but the issue with my 'increased placental blood flow resistance' and left uterine artery were still there, which was a bit disappointing as Dr Google had told me it could right itself by this point. It's obviously not affecting the baby's growth at the moment but it does mean they still want to see me for another scan at 36 weeks and again I have to keep an eye on my blood pressure and stress levels.

Otherwise this week's been a mixed old bag week of symptoms. Here are a few - look away all ye who are squeamish:

1)  My feet. The sun came out and my feet BALLOONED. It was actually ridiculous. I showed them to a few friends who said theirs did the same but not until they were much further along. Here they are at the end of a long day sitting at my desk at work:

I warned you. Yuck! They also really hurt when I walk because the fluid on the top of them seems to wobble as I put each foot down. The only solution is keeping them raised as much as possible - I have a box under my desk at work now and I have been using my poor feet as an excuse to do bugger all in the house once I get home. Oli has been (not so) graciously massaging them with my Lucky Legs gel which is awesome - definitely my favourite pregnancy buy so far, after the dream bed companion that is the Theraline.

2) I have been constipated beyond belief. Sorry, TMI but there you go. No amount of beans has been shifting things, but when I do finally need to go, I have to go. I don't know if this is because the baby somehow kicks things along my intestines but it's a proper rush-to-the-loo type situation. Nice.

3) We went to start our baby shopping in John Lewis at the weekend and all that happened is that I walked around in a daze, feeling totally overwhelmed and on the verge of tears. There. Is. So. Much. Stuff. I don't know what half of it does. I don't know where to start. I can just about cope with baby grows, but scratch mitts, room thermometers, breast pumps, sterilisers, breast pads, maternity pads, nipple cream... like I said, overwhelming. The only thing I KNOW I have to get is a Sophie giraffe thing, because all my mother-friends have told me about them. And I keep spotting them in photoshoots of nurseries.

Added to this the bedside cot we had decided on after much deliberation is no longer endorsed by the NCT owing to a baby suffocating to death while sleeping in it. So yeah, we're back to square one on even that decision! If anyone has any recommendations of cots that you can have next to you (Moses baskets freak me out) please shout!

4) Cravings-wise, Curly Wurlys and ice cubes (not together) have been the order of the day. And cold, cold drinks.

5) I started to get weird period-like pain yesterday morning. It was really strong and painful and made me scared. I limped to work and it went away. I don't know what it was but I'm going to ask my midwife at my appointment next week. I'm anxious to start feeling Braxton Hicks contractions now so wonder if it was that? Who knows?! As ever, the pregnancy learning curve is steep... third trimester, (I think) I'm ready for you!

27 Weeks

It feels like only yesterday I wrote my 26 weeks post - time is really flying! Yesterday I had exactly three months' left until my due date, and by the end of my 27 weeks, I officially enter my third trimester. Which I may now rename 'the finally looking pregnant trimester'.

On Saturday I had serious heartburn all day, and weird aches and pains all around my abdomen and stomach. Everytime I ate something I had to swig from my Gaviscon bottle (really nice that, the top is now encrusted with dried up bits of Gaviscon, which, unsurprisingly looks like little flakes of chalk and get stuck in your teeth/lipgloss). By the end of the day I was lying prostrate on the bed trying desperately to stretch my torso out somehow - it felt as though everything was being pushed around and together and rearranged when there simply wasn't enough space for it all.

I thought maybe this was what everyone told me to expect and that it would now be like that until the baby is born. But then on Sunday I woke up feeling much more comfortable, and then I realised, I had POPPED.

My bump, to me at least, is suddenly huge. My tummy button is now being stretched sideways and looks a bit like an old man's drooping mouth. Nice. We had a day out in Chiswick on Sunday and I spent the whole time walking around feeling a childish sense of pride in my bump. It's a proper bump - look!

It's a proper bump that also now moves of its own accord. I think I'm the only person related to this baby that likes this side of things, but you can very clearly now see decisive ripples and kicks appearing under the surface of my skin - much more so than before. I find it quite cute, and really reassuring. Oli is less convinced and my sister got completely freaked out when she saw my stomach rolling around in waves over the Bank Holiday.

I'm not quite at the stage yet where I can identify a hand or foot being flung outwards, but the other day I was lying down on the sofa and I noticed a very obvious dome shape on one side of my tummy - undoubtedly the head! That actually did freak me out a bit. It was so small, but then also not that small really. How can a 14-inch-long baby be living and (practising) breathing in my tum?! Mindblowing no matter how many times you think about it.

This week the baby finally opens his/her eyes, and he/she can very definitely hear now, so I've been trying to play lots of music to it (mostly Oli's of course) and have been singing along quite vociferously. Not that I'm trying to hothouse the little mite or anything but, ahem, he/she is clearly destined for musical stardom, what with my Grade 6 in clarinet too. I have yet to get Oli to give the bump its own recital but I'm still working on it, so watch this space...

Other than that, this week has been relatively non-eventful. I've been more tired than usual but I'm not sure if that's normal post-holiday work stress. The situation that was stressing me out before is now in limbo for a while, so I've been trying not to think about it, which is working out alright so far (touch wood).

More excitingly, when it comes to buying baby things, we had always said we would hold off until the beginning of June, which means that next week is officially shopping time! Squeak. I'm very bloody excited, I have to say. We've been proper grown ups and opened a joint bank account just for the baby, which we've been putting money into every month, so that all the baby stuff doesn't come as a huge shock financially. I'm a little overwhelmed about exactly how much there is to buy, but shopping has always been one of my strong points, so I think I'll cope...

26 Weeks

I was meant to write this post on the flight home from our trip to Greece, but as has been the case quite often lately, I was too lazy. So here is my 26 weeks post, a little late.

It turns out, in fact, that 26 weeks is actually six months after all. You'd think, with an A in Maths GCSE that I might have been able to work that one out before, (52 weeks in a year, 26 weeks being half of 52 - DUH) but clearly I read somewhere that 24 weeks was six months' pregnant and got muddled again. In my defence, I reckon no one actually knows what the hell is going on with pregnancy dating, so you can make it up as you go along if you like. Cos apparently 24 weeks is 'in your sixth month', if not six months exactly. Or something.

Anyway, here I am, having been carrying around Chip (as we have nicknamed the baby) for exactly half a year. I know, my bump looks still piddling doesn't it? I'm not entirely sure it's growing at all, but have been measuring its circumference with a tape measure weekly (not sure how scientific that is) and can confirm that something in there is getting bigger! My new refrain to Oli in the mornings is 'do I look pregnant today or fat?' and he's mostly answered 'pregnant' recently so I feel somewhat reassured.

Apart from my lovely holiday, which was beset by a strange sort of grieving process whereby a voice in my head kept saying things like 'this is the last time we'll get on a plane just the two of us', 'this is the last time we'll go out for dinner on holiday alone', 'this is the last time we'll doze by the pool', life has been pretty awful lately. For reasons I can't go into, but that have involved lots of serious grown-up meetings and questions about the future. The stress of this situation actually resulted in my blood pressure going through the roof, and so at my 24 week check up, I was told by the GP that, seeing as my bump was also measuring small for my dates, I should go and have an emergency scan straight away to check everything was OK.

Thankfully, everything was OK. The baby measured perfectly for the dates and was bouncing around quite happily in my apparently diminutive bump, seemingly oblivious to my woes. The baby was even 'practising breathing' as we watched. Who knew they did this?! They 'breathe' in amniotic fluid and blow bubbles as they exhale it - as you can see in the pic. Very cool.

Unfortunately, the baby still has my nose, but you know, you can't have everything. It was a relief that he/she was healthy, but I have been advised to minimise stress (not particularly easy, I have to say) and so I'm trying really hard to take it easy. Thank god for all the bank holidays in May.

In other pregnancy whinges, I have some new symptoms to report. First off, my feet. I should have known, because even pre-up-the-duff my feet used to swell up on aeroplanes, but my feet at the moment (two days post-flight) are huge. Huge and puffy and hot and throbbing. Yesterday I wore normal shoes to work and by the end of the day apparently my feet had decided to go up an entire size, making my shoes unbearably painful. Today I'm in flip-flops and my feet are covered with blisters from yesterday. My mum says this will only get worse (she had my sister in August) as the weather warms up, so that's something to look forward to *prays for a washout summer*. I never imagined I would lie in bed moaning and whimpering about how painfully HOT my feet were - tis a new one, and a weird one.

The other final symptom has been somewhat disturbing. Upon removing my bra while in Greece, I noticed two tiny yellow stains in the middle of each cup. Yep, I am officially morphing into a human cow. Yet again, who knew? There's no baby yet, why is there stuff coming out of my nipples already? And also, where the hell does it actually come from? I still don't exactly understand where the holes are in nipples.

And these are the things that, pre-pregnancy, you never have to even THINK about. Oh those blissful days...

24 Weeks - also known as six months!

I've realised that every pregnancy blog/vlog/diary/updated I've ever read starts 95% of the time with someone saying 'I can't BELIEVE I'm XX weeks pregnant'. So I vowed not to do that, yet here I am, falling into the cliche, because I really can't believe I'm 24 weeks - or more shockingly SIX MONTHS' pregnant today. At six months, I thought I would be gigantic, yet my bump, although an inch bigger than a week ago, is still relatively small and manageable. I don't really feel six months' pregnant at all. I actually feel instead that this is the first week where I feel actually properly pregnant finally, in that it's definitely on my mind all the time now. And turning over in bed has started to get a bit weird as my body moves and my stomach sort of follows a few nanoseconds later.

Physically, not much has happened this week, but I have been thinking a lot about mental health in pregnancy. The other night, after a particularly long and stressful week and a sleepless night the night before (I woke up at 4.30am and lay there till 6, before getting up and working through some emails), I had my second pregnancy 'hallucination'.

My first had been sometime late in the first trimester; I can't remember when exactly now. But I had woken up terrified because I heard someone open the front door, climb the stairs and open the door to my bedroom. I lay there for several seconds in the pitch black, not moving, before deciding I had to confront whoever it was. Finally I sat up in bed and turned on the light. It was 4am. There was no one there.

I was so confused at the time as I had been sure of what I'd heard, and sure that the door to my room would be open. I had heard it open! I even went into the hallway to check, but there was nothing and nobody there, and the front door was locked tight.

My second hallucination came last week and was altogether worse, albeit really bizarre. I woke up because beside me in the bed (Oli has been away on tour so I've mostly been sleeping alone) a man pushed the duvet onto me as he sat up next to me. He was naked from the waist up, and his face was in shadow, but he had a cushion balanced on his head (this is the bit that's just WEIRD). I screamed 'Get the fuck out of my room!', ran out of the bed and opened the door. And then suddenly stopped. And realised that he had disappeared.

Both of these episodes, I've decided, boil down to one thing: feeling vulnerable. I don't feel vulnerable very often. I'm an independent person, used to living alone (have done for nearly eight years, before Oli moved in last year) and have very rarely felt exposed or worried about my safety. But being pregnant is the most vulnerable state you can really get, because, as I've said before, so much of what's going to happen to you is outside your control. And it really affects your mental health and your sense of self-identity.

I hate being a needy person, but now I find myself asking Oli to carry the washing basket for me, because honestly bending down to pick it up makes me worry I might throw up (that lovely acid reflux again). I'm aware more than ever that I MUST sleep well and eat well because it's not just my health at stake, but that of my baby too. I don't want to travel on the tube in rush hour because I'm scared of getting ill and somehow impacting my baby. I don't want to go to noisy bars and stand there making conversation with people all the while knowing I must eat because my low blood sugar level is making me feel nauseous and panicky. And all this has made me feel uncomfortable, and pathetic, and vulnerable, and dependent.

Pregnancy is incredible, and insane. Hormonally, it's like puberty in many ways, with the bodily changes and the mood swings, but even more intense, and concentrated into a shorter period of time. I actually think I'm lucky in that I've not found my mood has changed that much - apart from crying at everything in the first trimester, and feeling less tolerant of people and things in general. I haven't been depressed, or particularly anxious, or deliriously happy either. But I have felt desperate to prove that pregnancy won't change me, or my independent lifestyle. To my detriment.

Personally, I don't think enough is talked about of your mental health and wellbeing during pregnancy. We're told a lot about nutrition and exercise but little is said about our own personal emotional care. Not much is said, for example, about the crazy dreams you get, of which I've had too many to blog about. But these are just as common a side effect as morning sickness and thicker hair, and I think even more important.

Something I've found of interest is Tommy's Wellbeing Plan - and this is the sort of thing that I think should be included in NHS pregnancy literature from the outset.

So, the moral of this ramble is: from now on I'm going to sleep better, ask for help without beating myself up about it, and stop doing things I don't want to do because I don't want people to see me as a pregnant wimp.

I am a pregnant wimp, and I don't care anymore.

PS I'll be on holiday next week so won't do a 25 week post! Enjoy your week off - I'll be back boring you with more thrilling updates before you can say 'third trimester'.

23 Weeks

Look, I'm all in a muddle now. I'm 23 weeks today (hurrah!), which I thought meant I had graduated to a butternut squash, but apparently not, apparently (at least according to my Glow Nurture app) I'm on an ear of corn (spiky). Yet the handy chart above says that that's actually next week, and I am in fact still on a papaya. I'm not trying to cheat, honest. Can we all just agree that the fruit and veg thing is COMPLETELY STUPID AND ANNOYING? Thank you.

Not much has happened this week except for the following:

1) I have developed acid reflux/regurgitation. This is pretty horrible, especially after my bout of norovirus the other week. Now, after every meal, all the food I've eaten seems to decide to jump up and down my oesophagus, despite the fact it's been very firmly SWALLOWED. Put simply, I keep being sick into my mouth. It's lovely. Really lovely. The only thing that helps is Gaviscon Double Action (the liquid), which I am getting through tons of. I think it basically creates a seal on the top of your food pipe that keeps the food in your stomach where it belongs.

What's weird about this is that I don't feel nauseous at all, but I can't seem to keep food down. Literally! It's especially bad in the evenings when I slump on the sofa after dinner. Slumping is bad. Slumping has always been bad, but is now forbidden.

2) The baby has been doing lots and lots of partying in my uterus. And I really love it! Oli got freaked out the other day because you can now actually watch my stomach jumping about. I have yet to see a hand or foot print emerge from under my skin, but there are definite ripples and peaks that appear when the baby moves. I know it sounds kind of gross and horrible, and I always saw it that way before I got pregnant myself, but it's actually so cute and lovely and really does make me grin. (Apart from when the baby decides to do it at 2.40am and keeps me awake - babies seem to like moving about just when you want to go to sleep, so I've realised. Guess this is something to get used to).

Other than that, I thought this week I might have a bit of a rant about maternity clothes. If blue doesn't suit you and you don't like wearing stripes, you better adopt. That's all I can say. ALL HIGH STREET MATERNITY CLOTHES ARE BLUE AND/OR STRIPED. Seriously, it's like some kind of friggin' uniform, marking you out. 'Look everyone! this bird had sex in the last few months!' There's truly nothing more depressing than JoJo Maman Bebe's maternity section - I managed to find a few pieces that didn't make me want to shoot myself but the lack of imagination involved in designing maternity wear is shameful. And don't even go into Mothercare unless you want to despair for humanity.

As I'm so vain (as established earlier in my pregnancy) I have been scouring the internet for alternatives to traditional maternity clothes and thus found Seraphine, Isabella Oliver and my absolute favourite, Madderson London. These brands have saved me, but my god they're pricey. I've also bought a load of things in Cos, which has plenty of oversized tops that aren't maternity but work really well. But I would say 90% of my maternity wardrobe is from Seraphine, who thankfully have really good sales on quite often. Their bamboo leggings are my new favourite things in the world (something weird, is it just me? I really don't like wearing trousers now I'm pregnant, and jeans especially, even maternity ones - too much constriction around my tummy). And I've also picked up a rather yawnsome but practical grey maxi skirt from them which I can see myself wearing all summer until it falls apart.

Anyway to end this post, here's a pic of me in both the skirt (looking depressingly knackered) and some stripes (conforming). Apologies for the black bra under the white vest top (rant on maternity bras also soon to come) and the massive VPL in both pics (made you look!) but common decency has given way to comfort and I don't care anymore. I'm pregnant. This is the only time in my life when eating microwave spaghetti carbonara will not make me feel guilty, and when I don't give two hoots about the state of my underwear. So there.

22 weeks

It's nice not to have to start this post with a wonky selfie. Instead, behold the wonder that is my baby's face in portrait! Baby is now the size of a papaya, which a quick Google has told me is pretty bloody big. I keep thinking of the watermelon that awaits though, and my eyes water...

The reason I have this new improved photo of my baby is that on Monday we had our anomaly scan. Here they check that the baby is developing well, and everything looks as it should. It's also the time when you can find out the baby's gender... more on that later.

I was really nervous about this scan because basically, if everything looks OK with the baby at this stage then you should be OK for the rest of the pregnancy. It's the last scan the NHS does and the last proper check they do. Oli kept reassuring me that everything would be fine, but I was still pretty scared and didn't sleep well the night before. Anyway, everything WAS fine, sort of.

We had a newly qualified sonographer doing our scan, and it was quite obvious that she was a little bit nervous and inexperienced. What didn't help was that the baby decided to get into the most ridiculous position imaginable, making scanning its heart in particular a challenge. Basically our baby had its head down against my uterus (sorry, ick) and its legs curled up around its body completely, with its feet behind its head. I mean, an impressive yoga move for sure, but definitely more pretzel than papaya. So the sonographer spent quite a while saying 'Oh baby, what are you doing' and things like that, and poking me and trying to get it to move, but to no avail.

After about 20 minutes of this, which was actually quite mesmerising - nothing like watching something that's INSIDE YOU squirm about and gulp and reach for things with its hands to blow your mind - another sonographer came in the room and introduced herself as the Chief. She was much more comfortable and confident, and immediately took charge. After a while, and some more prodding and poking, she managed to get a good enough picture of the heart to confirm that all looked well. She then asked us the killer question: 'Do you want to know the sex?'

I have wanted to know the sex from the beginning. It's not in my nature to wait for anything and I want to feel like I can bond with the baby more - which is difficult when it doesn't have a gender and you don't quite know how to identify with it. But Oli was adamant that few things in life are a surprise, thus this must remain one. So as a compromise, we decided to ask her to write down the sex on a piece of card we'd brought, and seal it in an envelope, in case we changed our minds.

She was very obliging. I have to say, my hospital must be the most terrifying thing ever seen outside of a horror film, but the staff and midwives I've met (even the dopey HIV one) have all been really lovely and very kind and nothing at all like your harassed GP who just wants you out the door as soon as possible.

I hope we get to see Chief Sonographer again because the only fly in the ointment is that I have something called 'increased placental blood flow resistance' which I think means there's something wrong with the blood pressure between me and the placenta or the placenta and the baby, or something, which means I will be back for more scans. The sonographer stressed that it was unlikely to be anything serious, but did put me at a slight increased risk of developing pre-eclampsia, or of the baby developing growth problems, so they have to keep an eye on it.

I think maybe this news is the reason this post is a bit more sombre and a bit less sarcastic. Seeing my baby moving about so obviously and deliberately - like it really was making conscious decisions what to do with its hands, legs, feel and even little lips, has made me feel so worried about him/her and protective. I finally feel that the baby is a real person, and I want to make sure that he/she's OK. Nothing else really matters in comparison.

Anyway, that's it for 22 weeks. Just so this post isn't all doom and gloom, check out my 22 week bump.

Last week I got norovirus (not advisable when you're pregnant particularly) and actually lost 2 lbs, so I'm quite surprised to see that despite this my bump has actually grown a bit! Only a little, but definitely a bit! And this is the first week when someone asked me if I was pregnant. A VERY exciting moment - I finally look pregnant, not just gluttonous! - and I practically squeaked with glee when I said I was.

21 weeks

21 weeks pregnant and I'm carrying around a pomegranate! I don't know what a pomegranate looks like, apart from juiced in a glass, so I will refrain from passing comment on that one.

This will forever be remembered as the week I blew my nose and black lumps came out. No, I hadn't recently been on the Northern line. No, it wasn't, as suspected, parts of my (baby) brain. It was lumps of dried blood.

Lovely huh?

I had actually never, ever had a nosebleed. Not once in my life. As a child I used to envy those who had them, because they got fussed over, and, well, it's so DRAMATIC isn't it? Having blood pour out of your nostrils. Roll on 30ish years and I realise it's not dramatic at all, but rather feels like you're drowning in your own breath.

As a side effect of pregnancy, your progesterone levels mean that you have much more blood in your system than normal, which is why you are more prone to nosebleeds and bleeding gums etc. Oh, and haemorrhoids, but luckily I seem to have escaped them thus far (sorry, TMI). But the black lumps of dried blood was definitely a 'WTF is happening to me!' moment. Luckily it was a one-off, but it's not something I'm going to forget in a hurry.

There have been a couple of other things on my mind this week:

1) My mind.

My mind has been on my mind because my mind is not working properly. I've been fuzzy-headed for about a month now, but this was the week things really started to go downhill. Here's a few of things I've done thus far:

Left the gas on. For three hours.

Chased clients for invoices they've already paid (CRINGE).

Turned up to the dentist a week early.

Not locked the front door.

Put the washing machine on without putting any detergent in it.

Left the fridge door open - about six times and counting so far.

Forgotten meetings.

Forgotten half the things I wanted to add to this list.

Baby brain is REAL. I regularly now forget what I'm talking about in the middle of a sentence, and if I have an idea and don't write it down on my iPhone in the milliseconds afterwards, it's gone forever. My vocabulary has shrunk to that of a six year old. It's actually horrible feeling this out of control, and having this much trouble focusing on things, especially when work is so busy at the moment. As a control freak, I am not enjoying not being able to depend on myself.

O has also been using it as an excuse to tell me he's told me things when I KNOW he hasn't. Which makes the whole thing even more annoying.

2) My bump (or lack thereof)

I know a lot of pregnant women complain about this, especially first timers, but I really don't have much of a bump at all. I have had countless people tell me with a tut that 'you just look like I do normally' when I've stuck my tummy out and exclaimed how big I feel and I suppose I should be grateful. But it does make you worry. Is the baby growing OK? Will it turn out to be a midget (unlikely given its father)?

Every morning I do a bump check (which is a bad idea because in the mornings it's practically non-existent) and every morning I think I haven't really changed much at all. The only thing reassuring me is that I have a really long torso (and bottom, my nickname at school: 'Ducky Long Bum', forever unkind and remembered, Notre Dame girls) and so the baby must have lots of space in there which is why my bump is more spread out. I don't really want to look hugely pregnant yet as I'm sure it's very uncomfortable, but it's this damn ambiguous stage at the moment that I don't like - put a coat on me and I don't look pregnant at all, in a top I just look like I've eaten too many pies...

3) The baby kicked me!

You'll be pleased to hear I've saved the non-whinging part till last. I've been feeling squirming movements for a few weeks now, but only when I have been lying on my stomach. This was different. It was an actual kick. I was sitting with my legs up on the sofa reading and I felt this very definite little jab from inside - like someone flicking you with their thumb and middle finger. And instead of being creepy or weird, it was SUCH a lovely feeling that I actually squealed and grinned for about an hour afterwards.

It's definitely made the whole thing feel more real, and now whenever I feel the baby fluttering around I find myself talking to it, a bit like I talk to the cat when he shouts at me. Alas he/she has yet to kick again. I wait in hope and eager anticipation...

20 weeks

At 20 weeks, my baby is a banana! I wouldn't be surprised if I was actually having a banana, as I have certainly eaten more than my fair share of them since finding out I'm pregnant. Bananas are, of course, thinner than mangoes (19 weeks), so in my head it means the baby's gone anorexic, but eventually I'll accept it's all about length and not girth and shut up about the fruit and veg thing.

Apparently, at 20 weeks, I'm halfway through my pregnancy. Which would be somewhat of a milestone if it meant that I now have just as long to go as I have already been through, but, as with all pregnancy things, nothing is as it seems. In fact, for the first 2 weeks of my 'pregnancy' I wasn't actually pregnant at all, because pregnancy is counted from the first day of your last period. Confusing much?

A few interesting things happened this week. I finally plucked up the courage to weigh myself. I have put on 8.5lb since becoming pregnant, which is very average, despite feeling rather traumatic. I am the heaviest I have ever been (and I know, I have a long way still to go...) and I feel it! My legs are achingly heavy at the end of the day. The veins in my left leg particularly keep me awake at night in worry - are they on their way to varicose already?

As my bump is still quite small, a lot of this weight must have gone on my boobs, which are quite frankly, impressive. Last week while at work they threatened to escape my vest top and I couldn't help but squeak:

'My boobs are almost touching!'

'Touching what?' my bemused business partner asked.

'Each other!' I said, marvelling at the sight. I have never had cleavage in my life.

From now on, apparently I'm supposed to put on 1lb per week. I told my mum this while merrily stuffing my face over Easter lunch and she told me not to be so ridiculous, because that would mean I would end up putting on another 20lbs, which would make me clinically obese. When she had me and my sister, she apparently put on about half a stone in total and lost it all within three weeks.

I don't think my mum has read the baby books.

I indignantly Googled it in front of her and proved to her that in fact, I am RIGHT and that I could even put on 2lb a week should I feel like it and still be perfectly within the healthy limits. Her reply to this: 'Well, it was all different in my day.' Hmmm.

Bless my mum, but apparently 'in her day', no one needed pregnancy pillows or pregnancy anything really, she wore her normal clothes quite happily until she was about six months' gone, there was no need for prenatal yoga or any of that nonsense, you didn't even go to the doctor till you'd missed two periods (!!), women were TOUGHER godammit, and certainly NO ONE IN THEIR RIGHT MIND had a home birth. My mum has made her pregnancies sound like nothing more remarkable than having a bit of a cold, and I fear we may fall out before I come to full term, when I fully expect to be reclining in a wheelchair groaning about my 'condition'.

This week, I diagnosed myself, with the help of Dr Google, with Pelvic Girdle Pain. At first I thought I had a bit of sciatica (told my mum this and she told me that she got a 'touch of it' but not, of course, until she was overdue) but Dr Google said no, it was a unique pregnancy affliction, whereby your hips hurt because they are basically stretching apart. And they really are! It's so weird how your body can get wider without putting on any fat in the area - but for once the proof's not in the pudding (I've mostly gone off them) but in the fact it's now quite a struggle to yank my pyjamas above my thighs. Sniff.

Anyway Dr Google prescribed a exercise ball, and so this has been added to the list of random new things in my home, along with the pregnancy pillow, a Lush massage bar designed for pregnant women, some soothing leg cream and a new yoga mat. The yoga mat was technically unnecessary as I already had one but matches the exercise ball. So y'know. I have been bouncing about on my exercise ball quite happily and think it may even play a role in the birth.

I suppose, more than anything else, this pregnancy lark has taught me how utterly vain I am. It's all me me me at the moment - how I'm feeling, what I look like... I feel a bit ashamed, but I find myself preoccupied with all the physical twinges and changes and not thinking much about the baby itself.

I hope that after the next scan (mine's a bit late, at nearly 22 weeks) I will stop worrying about the fact that I just look podgy really, not pregnant, and instead focus on the poor wee mite who's busy drinking its own amniotic fluid and learning how to breathe and forming its first poo and growing teeth buds and doing all sorts of miraculous things like that.

And I thought I was having a hard time. As O said, it's a good thing we don't remember anything that happens to us when in the womb...