Sunday lie-in, breakfast with prosecco, a lovely card and a white azalea. Don’t you love Mothering Sunday? I remember how disappointed I was last year that I just about didn’t make it. Little L was scheduled to pop out any second around this date. If someone had told me that I had to continue waiting for more than three weeks, I think I had banged my head on the kitchen table.
Instead, Big M abused the bump as his bedside table. And little L kicked off the newspaper as soon he tried to rest it on her ‘house’. Funny days. Are you one of those women who loved, loved, loved being pregnant? I have to say, I prefer not having a bump. It was an exciting experience. But extremely weird at the same time.