Well hello, fancy meeting you in a place like this.
In the interests of parity I thought that I'd sneak back to the blog to record the progress of Baby Number 2.
Sorry? Oh yes. I see - hence the shocked look on your face.
You didn't notice I was getting a little thick around the waistline?
Didn't observe the gagging or the snacking or the snoozing or the fact that you haven't seen me after 8.30pm in the evening for the past 3 months?
Mmm, mmm I see your point - it's a little hard to notice these details via the Internet.
Ok, well let me catch you up.
Honour - the human dynamo - is now 18 months old...and due to have a little brother or sister arrive in approximately 6 months time.
(6 months? 6 months is not long - breathes in and out of paper bag)
We had the 12 week scan on Thursday and saw the babe dancing about waving his jazz hands. Babe has a lovely nose, a pair of very cute feet and a pretty snazzy bladder. Oh and all the other bits as well.
Twas very exciting that babe really, really exists. Despite the wee on the stick test (aka pregnancy test) and the symptoms (OH the symptoms)...it's just somehow so hard to believe there is really a teeny tiny human being growing inside you. Or maybe that's just one of my own peccadillos.
Speaking of symptoms. I bring good news of great joy to all first time pregnant puke-a-thoners. Last time I was sick as the proverbial dog and the proverbial parrot. A sick dog married to a sick parrot; having sick dogots or parrogs. Groo. Could not eat. Sugar was gack, gack, gack - the taste of death. Pukathon was constant.
This time, I have been able to eat. In fact I have to eat. Eat. Eat. Eat. So much eating. This baby must be running a marathon or growing wings or something cos it is burning about a gazillion calories a day.
I drink fruit juice all day long. I eat ice cream (note: I don't like ice cream). I can eat winegums by the handful without feeling sick (which I can never do when not pregnant). Pasta, potates...mmm...potatoes...it's carb city Arizona over at our place.
Sadly this only barely keeps the nausea at bag. Yeuch, nausea. Gagging, yeuch. Feeling like I am ingesting poison while digesting every meal. Not being able to sleep cos of the digesting poison...and then not being able to sleep cos the poison is ingested and I need to get up and eat something so I don't feel nauseous again. Most nights I've drunk about a litre of milk at 2am in the morning. Aaah it's like having a newborn already!
Anyway, despite this sob story. It's still WAY. WAY better than last time. And having reached the 12 week mark it's getting a bit better.
The thing is that despite blathering on about me, me me; this time it's not all about me being pregnant anyway. (Though I am - keep up!). Last time I was so excited to.be.pregnant. But this time it's the baby. There's a baby. A baby that we are going to love as much as we love Honour.
A person with whom we are going to fall in love.
That's what's exciting.
So, hello gorgeous child. Can't wait to meet you.