Now if you don’t mind it’s time for the bump and I to make up some songs for the bath
I was in mourning as my beloved Reebok IRun was carried down four flights of stairs and driven away to the tip
It’s our time now and soon enough it will be shared with everyone else who has loved and supported Matt and I on this incredible journey but for the next 9 weeks it’s (selfishly) just mine.
Some people rejoice in their changing shape as their pregnancy progresses, that was never going to happen with me and anyone who knows me well enough will know exactly what I’m on about. I’m certainly not feeling that I’m an empowered life bearing force of nature but more about the boobs and the bump later.
All that’s left to say at this point is that I LOVE my bump, it has taken me 7 months to feel this but I now feel this little character growing inside me, that responds to my addiction of nesquik milk shakes and songs made up in the bath
We both went along to the 12 week scan, both excited at the prospect of seeing this miraculous life-force growing inside me and also thrilled that we were finally joining the NHS system, we were now considered “normal”, not a couple with infertility issues, even more exciting the injections were due to finish in a weeks time too. Trepidation still hung in the air as we had the combined Downs test to go through and although our chances are lessened due to the age of the donor, this doesn’t rule it out and even if the tests come back clear it still doesn’t necessarily eliminate “Downs”. We sat patiently in the waiting room and looked at the various size bumps waiting their turn, a lady came in with her bugaboo donkey and got out her little boy who’s legs were strapped in splinters. He was attached to an oxygen tank and very seriously brain damaged. This Mum was incredible with him, of course she was, she was his Mother for goodness sake. Tears rolled down my face, as I azing as her, if, God forbid, this happened to us…… I doubt it somehow, there but for the grace of God……….”Mrs Stone?” My thoughts were broken, it was our turn.
There it was, wriggling and somersaulting like a circus trapeze act. “This is a very busy baby” the sonographer declared, HA HA well there we are, no more proof needed of chromosome crossover then, there was all the proof I needed…. Busy baby? It could only be mine! The date was officially documented too, , this baby would be entering the world in the party season to fireworks, frivolity and festive cheer…. 
Hoo Rah!
My treadmill had blown up a few weeks previously and since then I had been feeling a little out of control, this sounds a tad dramatic but I exaggerate not. My treadmill is my sanity, it’s where I think, plan, dream and cry. My treadmill sees more emotion from me on a daily basis than Matt ever will, it’s where I came to terms with the failed attempts of IVF, it’s where I realised that donor egg was a positive experienced for us, my frustrations were bashed out on this machine , it was my leveller. Still, we would order another from eBay. The day arrived as did the treadmill, it was lovingly unpacked and bolted together, aaaargh It was the shortest damn tread in history, now I’m not particularly tall as my husband likes to point out on a regular basis (I am 5’5? which I feel is average and he, at 6’3, thinks is stunted growth) one step on this and you were off the front of the machine, what a useless piece of equipment, I was so disappointed. So it was, that the machine was re packed and returned to sender. Time for treadmill number two, we made sure that this was a sturdier specimen with a long enough tread for a 5’5? short arse and happily placed the order. We gave several times for delivery, (they got it wrong 4 times) but finally on the fifth and final delivery it arrived! We live on the second floor with no lift, the courier was no more than 8 stone and complained bitterly in his italian accent that he was unable to carry it himself. Fortunately there are gas works going on in our road at the moment so a quick word to them and up it went in 30 seconds flat, to which the italian could only stand back and watch in awe.