He was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it any more obvious? Yes, that’s a line from an Avril Lavigne song, that’s how sad I am. Anyway, I thought I’d track my whole pregnancy journey in pictures. Sure what else would I be doing, now that I’m swanning around at home not working and being a very bad housewife who neither cooks nor cleans?
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So this is the last photo I have of us as a couple, misguided and childless, way back when. It’s a horrendous shot of both of us, primarily because it’s blurry, but also because Brendan has tried to do that designer stubble thing that looks so awful and I’m making a weird face and pointing like a retard. Anyway, that was us. As we used to be. Care- and fancy-free. And rhyming, apparently.
Then we went on holiday to Portugal, had too much unprotected sex, walked around saying “I wanna have a bayyybeee” in a whiney voice (that was me, not Brendan) and, lo and behold, against the odds, I got pregnant on day 30 of my cycle.
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This was the very first bump shot. To be honest, I think it was more of a beer baby than anything, but we have to start somewhere.
Random aside: I really miss being able to fit into those jeans. I remember at the time I thought I had a lot of weight to lose. With that waist?! I’ll probably never get into them again! Oh how pregnancy gives you the most horrific of life’s reality checks…
20 weeks later, there was no more waist. What I did have was significantly more arm, arse, thigh and face fat. Life is cruel.
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The photo above was taken in early January 2012. I thought my bump was MASSIVE at the time. Inside, Amelie – or Thumper as we preferred to call her – was busy doing this:
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At the scan that day we found out we were expecting a girl, and not the boy that I was expecting and had already named Saul. Cue a good session of tears, a frenzy of texting, and a long walk where I made my peace with the fact that I was expecting a girl and promptly named her Amelie Jane. Thus began the 5 months of reverse psychology on Brendan to get him to accept the name choice. It was ALL your idea, honey.
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And so it continued, and Thump the Bump got bigger, and I still insisted on wearing those awful spotty pyjamas…
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Until the point where I was basically nothing but bump.
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And then along came Amelie at 6.01pm on the first day in June, after some ball bouncing, an epidural, and pushing so hard I saw stars…
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So it’s now nine months and three weeks (ish) after that fated sun holiday, and I have to say that this tiny little human brings me more joy than I’d have thought possible. She is an awesome little poppet with silly hair, quasi modo poses and the most woefully unphotogenic face that I’ve ever had the misfortune to attempt to capture. But we love her anyway.
Photo above is courtesy of Auntie Claire who took 25 pictures and ended up with one which actually represents how cute she is. Let’s not mention the dodgy hair.
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