First week at home and the really sad thing was I didn’t have a clue what to do with it. I’d come up with hundreds of practical ideas when I was sitting at my desk at work, but I spent most of my time watching daytime telly, surfing the net and chatting to my friends online, as well as worrying about Usha and her baby.
I shouldn’t moan because I’m feeling loads better now. I can have naps whenever I like and it’s fab not having to get up early and drag my 83-year-old body (!) to work every day. Now I can stay in bed when the alarm goes off and just wake up when I’m given toast in bed by Nick (well, it’s happened once so far) then roll over to get in some more quality snoozing. I started to feel guilty that I should be doing something more constructive until my mum reminded me that I probably won’t get the chance to do this again until the baby’s a grumpy teenager!
Got a phone call from Usha on Tuesday – she and the baby are OK but she is due to be induced at the weekend as the doctors think that’ll be safer. Spent all week thinking about her and keeping my fingers crossed. It’s weird, we’ve kind of gone through our pregnancies together and I just want both of us to be fine. She has promised to get her husband Sam to text me when there’s any news.
On Saturday Caroline came round to go through the details of my baby shower next Sunday – the whole thing is totally her idea, not mine, as she read about it in a magazine and thought it would be a cool thing to do. It’s nice of her to organise it – her plan is for everyone to eat fairy cakes (with pink and blue icing, of course) and drink lemonade, and she has even sent out some invitations tucked into baby bootees. I told her I was embarrassed about the fact that everyone is meant to turn up with presents, but she said they were for the baby not me and as all my mates would be buying presents anyway what difference did it make? Nick thinks the whole idea is totally naff and has arranged to spend pretty much all the day with his mates playing football and then in the pub. He says it’s the only way he can get away from 'cooing women' as he calls us. Charming, I bet he’ll still wants to nick a couple of cupcakes though when he gets back.