Since the girls have gone back to school after the All Saints’ break, people I hardly know are coming up to me an exclaiming how pregnant I look all of a sudden. “C’est spectaculaire!” they exclaim, touching my stomach.
This is how it was during my previous two pregnancies too. Because I am not, even on my best days, a lithe whippet and because I favour roomy linen shirts rather than skin-tight whippet- wear, I just look like I’ve indulged in a few two many eclairs until I’m around five and a half months pregnant.
After this juncture, however, YOWZA!
I’m not that tall (five foot three and crumbs, although I always round it up to 5’4) so once the baby reaches a certain size it has nowhere to go but OUT and UP. I swear, there were times during my pregnancies with Charlotte and Camille that I was certain they were trying to come out my left nostril.
Just as people were surprised before when I announced I was pregnant, now they are shocked when they learn that I am not planning on giving birth in a matter of days. The truth is I’m not even six and a half months along yet, so I theoretically have over two months left.
But after marvelling over the phenomenal growth of my stomach, the next questions people invariably ask is, “So is it going to be a boy or a girl?”
Ah-hah…a very good question indeed.
To be continued…