I’ve been too busy lying around and weeping, with a brief holiday in-between to keep up to date with these updates. My baby was the size of a bunch of bananas (ooh er!) – this week it is a coconut which is apt as it feels rock hard and impossible to crack.
My stomach is absolutely gargantuan now. There was a woman on This Morning today with an 8 foot stomach who I felt quite an affinity with. It is extremely painful and I’m finding it so hard to keep up with the toddler. I don’t know how on earth I am going to get larger…it just doesn’t seem possible.
Good news: we have 100% decided on a name and I’m really happy with it.
Yesterday I put the toddler to bed and was chatting with my partner and just burst into tears.
“What’s wrong?!” he exclaimed.
“I’m just pregnant” I wept. It has got to that stage.
It must be like a horror film for him. He never knows what he will find when he gets home. Some days I have made a dinner and the house is spotless – some days I am in my pants in a heap of laundry weeping stuffing Haagen Dazs in my gob.
The baby has also taken to kicking downwards – towards the ol’ VJJ.
I mentioned this on Twitter (I no longer have any shame) and am informed these are called ‘Fanny Daggers’. When I sit and squirm in pain and my partner asks what is wrong, where do I even begin to explain?
It basically feels as though he’s trying to make a break for freedom. I imagine him in there, complete with Rambo headband kicking downwards “I’ve had enough of this Shit! I’m breaking out!”
See you next time…