Say what you like about the horror of a first trimester in winter. Some things about this pregnancy have been exceedingly well-timed.
Like last week, when the baby’s umbilical cord started working right in the middle of Christmas week. Hate to break it to you, little thing, but the food isn’t always that good. Still, a heck of a way to start, no? Did you like the chocolate?
And then there’s the hilarious flabbiness that has appeared suddenly these past few days. Honestly, stomach muscles, did you not even fight? I’m glooping around in all of these oversized shirts, but at least I just look like I ate too much turkey (I also did eat too much turkey. Is it just fat?).
I’m better able to be cheery about things generally, because we’re almost there. The scan is next week, which will relieve a lot of the anxiety I’ve been carrying around this time, if all is well. And if this pregnancy follows the same path as the previous, I’ve got two weeks at most before the sickness goes away – along with, hopefully, everything else – and I can start feeling like myself again. Perhaps at some point I’ll find the right words to describe the past couple of months as they were, but it’s not quite ordered enough in my head yet.
In the meantime, I’m only holding off buying some lovely, don’t-feel-like-an-elephant maternity clothes until scan day (pregnancy resolution #1: don’t be cheap. Be stylish), and already have my grown-up person handbag and life-changing lipstick on the go (pregnancy resolution #2: make the most of your accessories. It’s the only bit of you that’s not heaving around a foetus). If I learned anything from last time, it’s that nine months feels like an eternity to be billowing in oversized shirts. But you can wear lipstick, and still feel covered in more intrigue than a wartime secret agent.