Nine months

It’s been nearly nine months. A long and busy winter has passed and the blossom is in bloom. We’ve prepped and moved into our family nest, we’ve eaten more carbs and chocolate than ever before and we’ve completed the entirety of Breaking Bad. What do we do now? We wait. We enjoy our time together – the calm before the storm. And we finish that nest. Although there are surely no more shelves for Jonny to build.



We found out late last August. Managing to get through five positive pee-sticks before allowing ourselves any amount of confidence in the answer. We stood together in my childhood bedroom, my head on J’s shoulder, squeezing hands and occasionally peeling away to sneak a peek at the emerging line. It was indisputable. Time and time again. 

I was a heady mixture of stunned, ecstatic and petrified of what people’s reactions would be. We were living in my parent’s house at the time, I’m a freelancer, a worrier and I still look (and often feel) about 15. I’m also prone to doubting myself. I also couldn’t allow myself to digest it in case it wasn’t true. It is all I’ve ever wanted. Ever. Our tiny poppy seed growing my tummy.

We had one evening of it being our little secret. A date night in Chinatown. A perfect bubble of joy and disbelief. Grinning at each other, me asking Jon if it was real over and over. I remember that evening to be basked in a golden glow of summer, pink lipstick and London in its best light. We strolled through the streets, stopping to look at the wallpapered packaging in the oriental supermarket windows. With the bursting anticipation shared between us, it felt like we were right back on our travels again. As happy as can be.

Where Pocky got it's name
Where Pocky got it’s name



I plucked up the courage to tell my Mum and Dad the next morning, after a few hours of coaxing and reassurance that I was being an idiot by Jonny. Of course they were over the moon. Another grandchild to add to their bundle. I cried. Mum went straight upstairs to fetch the knitted treasures she’d been saving for this very occasion. She even brought a Mother & Baby magazine back from Tesco to celebrate.

It does seem like an eternity ago. We’ve crammed a lot in, including about fifty litres of white emulsion. Luckily, I escaped with minimal sickness and despite a few worries (this baby is not a wriggler), we’ve almost made it. Here’s hoping and hoping that the rest of it goes okay. Whilst the impending labour doesn’t frighten me, I just want to know that our Pocky is safe.

Nine months

6 thoughts on “Nine months

  1. So much excitement! Your bump with all the paint spatters is so cute! You’re about to be hit with so much love you won’t know what happened 🙂


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