30 weeks pregnant and baby is the size of a Canteloupe Melon. How exotic.
I haven’t felt quite so exotic, what with heartburn, shortness of breath when I’m doing nothing more exertive than sitting in a chair, chafing thighs and painful hips. Turns out there ain’t no glamour in this pregnancy game.
Week 17 of pregnancy started off with a little pampering, which was a nice change to doing the big shop. I took my friend, who is getting married at the end of the year, to Jo Malone in Liverpool where she had a bridal scent consultation and I had a hand and arm massage. It’s a complimentary service, so if you like Jo Malone products and you’re not suffering from pregnancy-related nose deficiencies, I’d highly recommend it. I came away with silky smooth arms, smelling of roses (or white jasmine and mint to be specific) and with a wish list as long as my leg.
The week of the Southern Pecan, that’s nine weeks pregnant, was a quiet one, just how I like it.
Symptoms have eased, the need to eat has not. I want to eat everything. ALL. THE. TIME. This week I found my groove with a box of Ritz’ crackers. I had forgotten how good these little beauties are, baked (not fried) I know they’re not part of a healthy balanced diet but the pregnant lady wants what the pregnant lady wants.
Shiiiiit. That big, life changing thing that we really wanted to happen is actually happening. Totally overjoyed but totally, instantly terrified. That’s normal, yes?!