As I type this, I am 10 days away from my “due date”. I’m wondering whether I should start on the rasberry leaf tea whilst also eating pineapple chunks?
Probs not, I decide.
I still have a few things I’d like to do before she arrives (how much am I tempting fate here?!).
* More afternoon naps whilst listening to the calming sounds of my Hypnobirthing MP3’s.
* Put the shelves up in the nursery……Who am I kidding?! Get my Husband to put shelves up and I can then decorate them.
* And what else? Oh yes – OBVS not forgetting my twice daily perenium massage to help ease things on D-day …. but quite frankly, who has the time?

All in all I am feeling pretty philosophical and positive as my lady bits await impending doom. I’m sort of looking forward to the whole bizarre, painful experience of labour, dare I say it.
At 36 it’s time to experience that rite of passage.
Time to see exactly what my Husband and I have created by mixing our gene pools.
I’ve been praying daily that we don’t have a Nick Cotton or Terry Duckworth scenario on our hands.

These days people like to talk about their life as “my journey”?
So I thought I’d write to you about my first pregnancy journey.
As with the start of all journey’s, it began by having a wee. I weed on a plastic stick and then felt really sick with excitement and nerves in equal measure, in a way I don’t experience when setting off for North Wales.

I thought I’d share my 5 defining experiences during pregnancy and be 100% honest about them, just in case they’d be useful to anyone else in the same boat or wanting to reminisce about this amusing phase of life.

1. Emotions
We all anticipate feeling a bit hormonal during pregnancy. Yet the regularity of my ups and downs, were even more drastic than those experienced during our poppers and tequila night’s in, at University.

One minute I’m watching DR Foster (so awful it’s amusing?) and start getting really bad restless leg syndrome.
Seeing the funny side, I’m up trying to doing an impromptu Dr Foster running man to make my Husband laugh.
Next minute I am literally sobbing, UNCONTROLLABLY and asking him to stop laughing at me.

With caution, my lovely patient Husband asks why I am now in tears when just a millisecond ago I was happily baffooning around?
“My restless leg proves I am never going to be in control of my own life EVER again. Life is over for me now, I’m going to be a Mum without my own first name and you won’t fancy me anymore”. Clearly.

One minute I am feeling unbreakable and all “Wooo, women carrying human’s, yey”!
Other days I am so emotional, I sob and wail hysterically to all sorts of random crap on the radio in a way that only “girls” can.
I’m driving to work and listening to Emma Bunton on Heart who plays the Pretenders.

Please have a read of these lyrics and see if it makes you feel teary? –
“Oh, why you look so sad?
Tears are in your eyes
Come on and come to me now
Don’t be ashamed to cry
Let me see you through
’cause I’ve seen the dark side too
When the night falls on you
You don’t know what to do
Nothing you confess
Could make me love you less

I’ll stand by you
I’ll stand by you
Won’t let nobody hurt you
I’ll stand by you

Even though I’m usually a staunch feminist, I’d suggest we ban heavily pregnant ladies from driving as this almost caused my daily trip into work to end in disaster. Bunton & Chrissy could have finished me off.

Pregnancy = Bi-polar emotional proportions.

2. “It’s a magical time” people kept telling me.
Well, of sorts, I’d say.
Magical in the sense that ACTUAL time shifts from our standard GMT to a special pregnancy time. Life is defined in weeks, not day’s or months.

If you’ve ever drifted off in a work meeting while someone presents something pointless and you fear you may fall asleep or throw yourself out of the window, then you may have some semblance of an idea how the first 12 weeks of pregnancy feels. You are waiting to be able to tell the world your biggest surprise and it’s the longest wait ever. With daily nausea and an overwhelming tiredness, thrown-in for good measure.

Then begins the wait for the 20 week scan to find out if my baby’s organs are OK and what type of baby you are growing, if you don’t like surprises.
Every ten minutes I’d check my watch and think, “how is it STILL Tuesday morning of week 17″?

However once you get over the mid-20 week stage, time accelerates and some Baby God is actually pressing fast forward on my usual 7 day week.
My Husband and I suddenly found ourselves on the Sunday of Week 34, sitting in a Potting Shed with 4 other couples talking about cervixes and calm places.
We were doing hypnobirthing classes.
In between going to my calm place in my mind, I was also thinking

So yes, I agree with the fact it’s a magical time as in ACTUAL time changes.
But like everything in life there are highs and lows.
Highs were when we first had a scan. First heard the heartbeat. First found out we were having a girl.
Proper tears of happiness, emotions and pure joy that will bond you and partner for the rest of your time together. The sort of bond you absolutely need when they are potentially going to witness you experience some of the following: wet yourself, poop yourself, have a babie’s head crown then be hanging out of your foof, have stitches in your downstairs regions, give birth to the alien placenta, attach plastic pumping devices to your udders. I mean breasts. The list is endless.

But Ladies lets be honest, there are also some lows.
You can’t drink, do much in the way of sweaty/ adrenaline pumping exercise, can’t go to high risk countries …. so there are sometimes pregnancy is just boring! There! I’ve said it!

It’s just that sometimes 9 months of pregnancy is a bit groundhog day. There is literally no respite from it.

Whilst your partner can switch off and ultimately, doesn’t believe any of it is happening until the day a baby pops out of your tummy or foof, there is no such switch off for the carrier.

No matter what I did, every day I was thinking about Motherhood, Labour, Breastfeeding, Nursery’s, baby bjorns, nappy bins, should I swaddle? As with anything on repeat, it started to become samey.

3. Food is genuinely my everything.
It’s become the centre of my world in a way I never experienced before and I have almost always, really loved eating.
There were days where had I been asked to pick between my home, Husband or a 9 month supply of every single food I fancied, I really couldn’t tell you what I’d have gone for. Cheese. Smoky bacon Walkers. Snickers. And green stuff. A balanced diet really.

To this end, what became very upsetting was that post 30 week stage when the baby takes up every single milimeter of your insides, I felt really aggrieved that I could no longer fit in, an evening meals. How friggin mean?!
My one bloody vice gone for the last 10+ weeks.

4. Nesting = storage.

I’ve always liked storage but during pregnancy it became my porn.
I’ve often thought that most journey’s from young-adult-hood, can be categorised by the type of furniture slash shite, that one purchases from Ikea. Par example:
Phase one – the teenage years: Strawberry laces, hotdogs and some scented candles.
Phase 2 – the Uni years – bedding, filing cabinets and meatballs for the freezer.
Phase 3 – The early adult and first time living outside student digs: Malm and Billy bookcases anyone?

Well if we skip forwards to Phase 5 – starting a family, then garnityr storage boxes for drawers have completely rocked my fairly dull pregnancy existence.
I think about them a lot. Definitely daily.
Do I need more and what else can be compartmentalised into a drawer?
It’s the healthiest and most organised of all the obsessions I have ever had.
I want to know where every paper clip, peg and battery is in my home and if I can’t tell you the exact location, I will feel as though I have failed this child. Doesn’t every ‘proper’ Mum know where to find a second class stamp and safety pin?

5. Fear
Again – honesty alert!
I felt fear quite a bit throughout this journey.
Not really about labour but about becoming a MOTHER.
It’s the ultimate sacrifice and responsibility…. and I’ll be honest with you here, I have never been 100% I’m up to the job.

I’ve gotten to 36 pleasing myself, love spontaneity and have a life I really enjoy.
Would I be able to cope with the routine and mundane aspects of life that a baby affords?
Would I enjoy it?
What if I didn’t enjoy it enough? Could my husband let me go on holiday for 7 days alone if I really, really needed it
(He said Yes!)?
Would I love my baby enough?

As I always tell myself in a crisis, if Kerry Katona can do this, then so can I but I still worried, I wouldn’t be able to do this. I think more women should be open and honest about such fears as I am sure they are completely normal for anyone who has had a bit of a life.

So as my first pregnancy journey comes to an end, I breath in the childless views for the last time.
Breathing with such a shallow breath that only happens when you’ve got no personal lung space left within your own body.

I wonder what the view will look like as my Husband and I become a 3?

I do not want to turn this blog into a Mummy blog but inevitably, as I debate various issues and experiences that life affords for us women, Motherhood in all it’s guises cannot be emitted.
I want to write about issues that affect women and how such issues can help us develop and feel inspired. How we can stop Motherhood from creating an inevitable pause on female life experiences in a negative way.

It is in this capacity, I shall at some stage report back, from the other side.

As ever, I promise to try and report back with the Truth, the whole Truth and nothing but the Truth.
All I know, is that for the good and the bad, this next chapter is going to be MOTHER F**KING EPIC.

Lindsey, just Lindsey fairly carefree.