The latest news probably won't come as a massive shock to anyone (Certainly not judging by the number of people who keep asking me, very seriously, if I'm sure I'm not expecting twins. My answer: fairly certain, thanks), but I'm growing a BIG FAT BABY.. According to my midwife I am measuring 3 weeks bigger than I should be, and no amount of suggestion from me was going to convince her to put this down to a medical reason. The truth is, I've been feeding my unborn child loads of sugar and have turned it into a little fatty. Oh dear.
In all seriousness, I am now trying to eat a bit more sensibly because this thing has still got to to come out somehow...and obviously there's my post-birth bikini modelling figure to think about.
In the meantime me and Mr G are being simultaneously amazed and freaked out by the sight of my stomach moving. It's like when someone has a really gory injury and it makes you feel a little bit sick but you still can't resist having a good old look anyway. Weird.
The baby has obviously inherited my nervous energy because it will not keep still and seems to be constantly on the go but at least it's got a sense of humour - I've been playing it music to see if it has any preferences and have discovered if I play "Rolling in The Deep" by Adele it will do somersaults... Every single time.
I already can't wait to meet the little rascal but I've still got another 10 weeks to wait... Zzzzzzzzz
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