Combine that with the adult acne that erupted on my chin and it's clear that at week 5 of pregnancy I was an absolute catch!
It was at this point I also discovered that my brain and mouth were no longer friends and did not work together anymore. I could have an extremely intelligent opinion that I desperately needed to share with people, yet as soon as I opened my mouth I forgot the entire gist of this amazing piece of information I had, and instead regurgitated snippets of sentences that didn't necessarily make sense. Luckily my breasts (touch them and I'll scream) had gone up a size, putting me at a distinct advantage of thrusting them in people's face to distract them from the utter shit that was falling from my mouth.
At week 6 (Black Peppercorn) I suddenly decided at 5pm on a Sunday that after cooking a roast chicken I in fact no longer liked chicken, and had to spend the entire meal dramatically averting my eyes from those in the room eating it. I had also developed the skills of a sniffer dog and could have been employed by MI5 immediately. No scent was undetectable and I took to just walking around sniffing the air.
Then again, do MI5 hire people with narcolepsy? Because I appeared to have contracted that also.
With baby the size of a blueberry at week 7 I spent the majority of my time
horizontal and gipping at the smell of pretty much everything. If it hadn't been for my secret pancake & maple syrup gorges I would have been convinced I had some sort of terrible stomach flu. Or I was maybe turning in to a zombie.
Week 8 informed me that baby was the size of a raspberry, however I was beyond caring as I trundled through the week on an emotional roller coaster. I was still horizontal and walking round like a zombie although this time I was a zombie with a permanently anxious face. Every worry or negative thought I could possibly have was surfacing this week. I must be crazy to have another child! What will we do for money when I leave work? What if there isn't enough space in our house? What if my four year old thinks I don't love him anymore? What if I die in childbirth. Yes, I went there. I went as far as death. Now I'm sure a glass of Prosecco would have eased these nightmarish thoughts, however all alcohol has been banished so instead I was forced to find comfort in 2 boxes of milk tray and a 5lb weight gain.
Strawberry sized at week 9 I can make no sense of my diary scribbles for that week except for something to do with wanting a vanilla slice and being an irrational cow.
I kind of lost interest in mocking fruit comparisons at week 10 (if I'm honest it was a fruit I'd never heard of and I didn't have the audacity to mock when I'm clearly so uncultured)
But week 10 was the week I went off tea! My favourite thing to drink, and I'd been such a good girl by having decaf too! My morning beverage now consists of hot water with honey and lemon, or a fruit tea. Of course this makes me feel extremely healthy and Gwyneth Paltrow(ish) in my pregnancy. I just need to take up some antenatal Yoga and Pilates. Or not.
Week 11 to 14 I just felt, well, normal! Hooray! Normal to the point where I kind of forgot I was pregnant for a while. And that's where I am now! Week 14 and feeling fabulous! I've also discovered nonalcoholic Prosecco ACTUALLY tastes like Prosecco, and I've fallen in love with Kopparberg non alcoholic pear cider! What more could you want!!