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I was born to be a mum!
Were you? I know I wasn't. I went through my pre- teen years romancing about having a little miniature me to dress in pretty clothes and little shoes, with little ribbons and little bows. When I got to the age for permissive sex all that went out of the window and I reached the stage where I was convinced that having a baby was something that would happen as soon as I decided I wanted one and not until. Sex was cool back then, I did it because I could, with no thought for any consequences that might attach themselves to my bit of fun.
You know, I really envy those women who don't find out they are pregnant until they are three or four months down the line. For me there was no three-month reprieve. One night I had sex, the next morning I had my first close encounter with the bottom of the toilet bowl and for the next four months the toilet and I became the best of friends, so close that we hugged every morning and often at different times of the day too. The first lesson I learned about pregnancy? Don't drink lager and black on a night out with the girls, it's rather unattractive when you bring it up after the first few sips.
I think I spent the first few months of pregnancy walking around with my tummy stuck out as far as I could get it. It was either that or have I'm pregnant' tattooed on the front of my head. How bloody unfair that I was putting up with all this sickness and no one even noticed.
My first trip to the hospital opened my eyes to the world of pregnancy, good and proper.
"You want to put you hands where?"
My first scan was a magical moment I will never forget. Seeing my daughter on the monitor smiling for the camera was amazing, she still is very photogenic, my Gem. Thinking back now I'm not sure whether the little movement that was interpreted as a wave might well have been the finger' as Gemma is now 17 and possessed by some crazed, hormonal entity that refuses to put the telephone down for more than an hour a day and thinks the most important tool for world peace is the hair straighteners.
Did anyone else think of the film Alien as they lay on the scan bed, or was that just me? Just for a moment I thought of John Hurt, innocently eating his breakfast when out of his stomach popped that wrinkled pink alien, with no hair and a horrid scream. Sound familiar?
As soon as my tummy started to grow pregnancy lost it's appeal for me, especially when I was still in the early stages of my pregnancy. I mean I didn't look pregnant, not really.
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