I’m now 28 weeks pregnant, which marks the start of the third trimester.

The Babycentre app kindly informed me of all the lovely things I have to look forward to: “Normal symptoms of the third semester may include heartburn, hemorrhoids, constipation, urinary incontinence, swelling and itchy skin. Your breasts may also begin leaking milk.”

Oh the glamour. Like I didn’t feel bad enough when my last Bounty pack  included samples of Tena Lady and stretch mark cream.

The whole pregnancy glow thing is a myth. If I have colour in my cheeks its usually because I’m out of breath from walking up the stairs or because I overdid it on the blusher trying to apply my make-up with one hand and make breakfast with the other.

The first trimester mainly involved peeing on sticks, throwing up, trying to avoid all talk of babies in case I gave the game away and coming up with excuses why I was always the designated driver on nights out (which are usually few and far between but typically as soon as I found out I couldn’t drink my social calendar became a flurry of birthdays, weddings and hen parties).

Second trimester brought slightly less throwing up, slightly more energy (woo hoo) and the need to find clothes I could squeeze my ‘is she pregnant or just fat’ belly into.

Now I’m into the ‘properly pregnant’ phase and need the help of a small crane (or at least my husband) to get up of the sofa.

It’s not all that bad though. Aside from the whole miracle of life thing, (which after quite a whiney post I’m obliged to say) when else would I get to eat my body weight in mini eggs, get out of doing any heavy lifting (or anything resembling exercise) and have an afternoon nap.

As I write this I’m lying on the sofa watching Alice in Wonderland while Hubby makes Sunday roast. Making the most of a rare opportunity to put my feet up!


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