God I could murder some wine.

What is a lovely two week break away from work without wine?  The most decadent treat I can now give myself is a decaf latte.  Literally cannot think about life stretching out into the future with no wine.

Still, things could be worse.  According to the Internets, I am lucky that I haven’t already given birth to a preterm infant and am not now sat in a neonatal unit looking into an incubator wondering whether my child will survive.

Or maybe I’ve just been googling “27 weeks pregnant” too many times and looking at the pictures that come up.

Also, on the Internets, everyone seems to be having some sort of drama.  Even on Fertility Friends (don’t ask) everyone is complaining about having to go to hospital every five minutes because of bleeding, or being in excruciating pain with unpleasant conditions with names like “sympathetic pubis dysfunction,” or something like that.  From what I can work out, this condition, the name of which I have almost certainly got wrong, is basically another name for “loads of pain around the pelvic area.”  I feel as though it is some sort of miracle that so far (touch wood) I have not suffered with any of these terrible afflictions.  Still, there is plenty of time for all of this and worse to happen over the next thirteen weeks.

Speaking of which, the baby isn’t moving much right at this minute.  Cue thoughts of imminent disaster.

Also, having children seems like quite hard work, even when one’s children are pretty much the most charming and well behaved specimens that one could meet.  I cannot imagine the difficulty of having to cope with a badly behaved or disabled child, for example.  There will be no more frivolous buying of shoes, that’s for sure.  No more impromptu trips to American Apparel.  No more dates with anyone ever (OK maybe that’s not such a bad thing.  Am thoroughly sick of dating and all associated activities.  Such as trawling internet dating sites and talking about disastrous dates with friends.  Obviously not sick of the actual shagging.  Except when with reprobates, which usually is, so maybe sick of that as well.  Thank God I got it all out of my system during my wild youth).

Anyway, enough of this morose worrying.  Going to lie down and see if I can feel the baby moving.  I have discovered that this is an activity which always cheers me up, mainly as it reminds me that there is actually someone in there.  Bizarrely, I am never alone.  WEIRD.