Woopsie!

What a day. I have a headache. I’m exhausted. I have an urge to clean. I keep getting cramps in my foot. And this bulge on my tummy- you’d think I was pregnant. And apparently everyone did. Except me. And Robbie. But it was because of the bulge that I went to check, just before we went on vacation, if indeed there was a little bun in my oven. The blood test estimated I was 9 weeks. According to tradition, still too early to say anything, but certainly a stage by which the person carrying the foetus should know. You’d think. Perhaps because my cycle never returned as it should have after the birth of Son I never had the telltale “I’m late” moment which normally gives it away. At least I still have a while to get my head around this, I thought, enough time to finish my big contract that I’ve just signed, enough time to get Son into his second year of life which will mean out of the cot, almost out of nappies and well into playschool. NOT. Today’s ultrasound revealed not a 10g foetus in it’s 1st trimester, but a 300g, 24cm foetus which is almost half way to term. Yes, I am 19 weeks and 3 days pregnant. Shock. Horror. Delight of course. But the contract? And Son? And my December holiday? Well all this stuff will just have to work itself out because the dear Lord appears to have other plans, which involve adding a brand new member to my beloved family around January 21!