and lo and behold god showed me the way and led me to h&m with a maternity section
Over are the days in which I shall weep over the lack of adequate maternity trouserings. For the Universe, it has taken mercy upon me and led me to a secret maternity section in H&M and there I have discovered trousers that did not make me weep with frustration, but with JOY.
Even black trousers! Professional looking trousers evidently not made by gnomes for gnomes! Trousers that appreciate leg length, trousers whose bootcut hems doth effortlessly reach the bottom of my ankle!
The importance of this discovery cannot be overestimated, since the Presence Of Good Trousers is instrumental to my quality of life. On occasions it is the only thing that stands between me and hermitude, and certainly it's been a powerful factor in my new-found enjoyment of pregnancy despite annoying foot-swellage and ligament pain. (Although apparently nothing entertains small children quite as much as me lurching around the office like a zombie on account of tendonal agony).
I have to say, the outward belly is remaining much more compact and manageable than I dared hope despite bullying and re-routing all my internal organs.
The baby continues to enliven my working days with backflips and kickings and elbowings and the occasional rendition of Riverdance on my bladder. Although the last is not nearly as delightful as the others my bladder is a bladder made tough by long car journeys and dreadful en-route toilet conditions of childhood and it endures with fortitude. (If this doesn't give me the pelvic floor of Steel I don't know what will).
The past few weeks have been a tense emotional no-man's land between my attachment to the baby and my anxiety about pregnancy loss (founded on nothing beyond my mother's history of miscarriages and my own 'I cannot think of joy and butterflies without also thinking of disaster' imagination) but as the baby reaches its point of viability I am enjoying it more and more.
Five best pregnancy moments so far:
*The day I found out.
*My 13 week ultrasound when I saw the by-then humanoid baby wriggling and jumping and sticking its tongue out at me.
*Feeling the baby move for the first time - a curious sensation as though a giant moth were beating its wings inside me.
*Waking to a pool of sunlight, then progressing to sleepy snugglings and Z reciting a weather report to my stomach.
*Just now - the cat watching my stomach intently and gently sniffing and batting at the baby flutters under my skin.
(Sixth favourite moment - the expression on the faces of the gathered health workers as I drank a glass of champagne at a leaving do yesterday)
Even black trousers! Professional looking trousers evidently not made by gnomes for gnomes! Trousers that appreciate leg length, trousers whose bootcut hems doth effortlessly reach the bottom of my ankle!
The importance of this discovery cannot be overestimated, since the Presence Of Good Trousers is instrumental to my quality of life. On occasions it is the only thing that stands between me and hermitude, and certainly it's been a powerful factor in my new-found enjoyment of pregnancy despite annoying foot-swellage and ligament pain. (Although apparently nothing entertains small children quite as much as me lurching around the office like a zombie on account of tendonal agony).
I have to say, the outward belly is remaining much more compact and manageable than I dared hope despite bullying and re-routing all my internal organs.
The baby continues to enliven my working days with backflips and kickings and elbowings and the occasional rendition of Riverdance on my bladder. Although the last is not nearly as delightful as the others my bladder is a bladder made tough by long car journeys and dreadful en-route toilet conditions of childhood and it endures with fortitude. (If this doesn't give me the pelvic floor of Steel I don't know what will).
The past few weeks have been a tense emotional no-man's land between my attachment to the baby and my anxiety about pregnancy loss (founded on nothing beyond my mother's history of miscarriages and my own 'I cannot think of joy and butterflies without also thinking of disaster' imagination) but as the baby reaches its point of viability I am enjoying it more and more.
Five best pregnancy moments so far:
*The day I found out.
*My 13 week ultrasound when I saw the by-then humanoid baby wriggling and jumping and sticking its tongue out at me.
*Feeling the baby move for the first time - a curious sensation as though a giant moth were beating its wings inside me.
*Waking to a pool of sunlight, then progressing to sleepy snugglings and Z reciting a weather report to my stomach.
*Just now - the cat watching my stomach intently and gently sniffing and batting at the baby flutters under my skin.
(Sixth favourite moment - the expression on the faces of the gathered health workers as I drank a glass of champagne at a leaving do yesterday)