All I seem to do is graze all day. I always seem to be hungry. It’s totally embarrassing – and instead of useful stuff like invoices, files and receipts, my desk drawers are now bulging with things like crackers, fruit and nuts.
It’s hardly surprising my bump's getting bigger, as my typical day’s menu now goes: banana and two rice cakes before getting out of bed, wholemeal toast with cheese for breakfast, some crackers and a yoghurt for elevenses, a tuna and salad sandwich, flapjack and apple for lunch, a mid-afternoon snack, jacket potato with cheese and beans for dinner, topped off with a jam crumpet for afters.
Susan, my boss, made the fatal mistake the other day of asking me how much weight I’d put on (it's true, tact really isn’t her strong point), and got a narky ‘How much do you think?’ back from me. I couldn’t help it, she’d be moody too if she was up all night going to the toilet (personal best so far – five trips in seven hours) and putting on weight on her bump, boobs and bum at a rate of half a pound a week – well, almost....
I’m also feeling grumpy because my bump isn’t the cute football shape I’d hoped for, and the one all the ‘celeb’ mums seem to have, which looks great under clingy tops and dresses. For some strange reason my bump has chosen to go in at the middle instead so it looks more like a giant kidney bean and makes me feel super fat rather than super fertile. While I’m still in a whinging mood, I’m also miffed that my belly button has popped out and looks dead strange – especially when it shows through my tops and T-shirts. I hope it goes back to normal once the baby's appeared as I don’t fancy having an ‘outy’ for the rest of my life.
It must have been obvious that I was fed up because even Nick asked me what was wrong when we were having breakfast this morning (usually I’d have to leap around in front of him naked with a sign saying ‘not happy, not happy, not happy’ before he would notice).
After a bit of persuasion I told him that I was fed up with looking fat rather than pregnant and that I wasn't really looking forward to our holiday next week because I feel so unglamorous. I said I knew I wouldn’t compare with all those chic French women and that he was bound to fancy them more than me. He gave me a hug and told me not to be so stupid (typical) and added that as far as he was concerned I’d look far sexier than any of them. He even went as far as to say that I had an ‘inner radiance’ which he found very attractive. This shocked me so much (the boy’s not usually big on compliments so that'll be it for the year) that I stopped sulking for the rest of the day. I even went out and bought a new dress for our holiday. It clings in all the right places so I’m hoping it will keep Nick’s eyes on me rather than all those French mademoiselles.