23 Feb 2010


I find myself in circumstances I've been energetically trying to avoid since my late teens.

After years of diligently not getting pregnant, M and I have done an about turn and got ourselves good and knocked up.
I have been pontificating on how to share this with the world (and by the world I mean my facebook page). It feels as though a gracious and rather distant announcement is expected of me, something to the tune of "R and M are delighted to announce they are expecting etc.."., which feels both impersonal and inaccurate. I'm looking for something more honest in both tone and content

"R is nauseous to announce that she is prego'd"
"R and M are chilled to announce that they are henceforth entirely responsible for the wellbeing of a tiny and fragile new person"
"R resentfully announces she is not getting fat but is in fact, pregnant"

Truthfully, M drifts about his day with the gently helpless air of a man who has been spun around fourteen times quickly then punched really hard in the face. I am nauseous, bitchy, overwhelmed with emotion at nappy adverts and troubled with a violent and reoccurring desire to kick the ankles of  fellow commuters on the tube. The clich├ęs are all true, which is disappointing.

But we're also floating on a smug self-involved little cloud of angel breath and sunlight.

I'm nine weeks prego'd and there is a grape size, mermaid-tailed baby-shaped little entity turning tiny nonchalant somersaults in my tummy. Just hanging around, growing it's own appendages (which is genius, however you look at it).

My baby looks a bit like this one. But cuter.

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