And the further it falls the heavier the weight plunging to the depths of my stomach. The nerves, the anxiety, the sheer fear.  

I'm going to have a baby. Oh. My. God.

Have I been in denial this whole time?? I suppose not, I mean I've been counting the days for months now (36 left) yes D Day is definitely approaching and yet it's only just dawning on me that with it comes a little parcel that'll change life forever as we know it in this household. 

I've thought a lot about how this little person is going to make his entrance. Thoughts of labour, of birthing pools, of contractions and pain relief have been permanantly occupying my brain lately. I've prepared myself for, (and indeed am looking forward to,) becomming a 'single' human being again. Being able to sleep on my tummy, having a few, much-missed, drinkies and of course wearing my high heels again, but funilly enough I think i've overlooked the very valid point that at the end of this pregnancy comes a baby.

I should be an old pro by now. Afterall I took on this very same challenge when I had my daughter at 20. Yet 5 years have passed since then, with one pregnancy ending in miscarriage at 12 weeks and another ending in total tragedy at the half-way mark, and I suppose I've just been so occupied by getting through an entire pregnancy that the thought of bringing a new baby into our world has been pushed to the back of my mind.

I should be confident, quietly assured that I've spent the past 5 years raising a bubba, so can easily do it all again. Deep down though, I'm not afraid to admit that I am, (for the purpose of emphasis) totally shitting bricks here.

I know what's coming. It's all returning to me now. Crystal clear memories of the challenges and hurdles that I'm facing. The sleepless nights. The constant crying. The painful boobs. The baby blues. There will be no 'off' button. No instructions. And I'm going to be, once again, completely responsible for a brand new life. Just Jay and I, with our little helper Lori. And together we have to make this whole thing work.

Perhaps it's a good thing that I'm being realistic about this. I mean I know it's not going to be all rosy. I'm kinda prepared, if not expecting, for it to be tough. Unlike the last time round when the harsh realities of life with a newborn sent my preconcieved fantasies of maternal bliss tumbling to the ground. 

It's far better to be realistic than to set myself up for a fall, right? Or should I be thinking in a glass is half-full manner? Maybe positivity will be key?

Ooooh heck, help me!

Can i really do this all over again? Will i cope okay? How about when Jay goes back to work and it's just me and my new creation?

I know, i know, i should have thought about all this beforehand. Preferably nine months ago. But you see losing Harry, just 6 weeks before falling pregnant with his sibling has kinda thrown me just a tad. I was supposed to have my baby at Christmas, instead i have had the worlds longest pregnancy (well almost) and I couldn't really visualise the end, until now.

Well only time will tell I suppose. Wish me lots of luck though won't you? Just in case ;-)

Steph x

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