Way back in a previous life, I lived next door to a charming and lovely older couple in their mid-70’s. I don’t know what we were talking about one particular afternoon over the fence but the woman told me that she had a nightly ritual she swore by.
Instead of dessert, she and her husband would each have three prunes generously soaked for a few days in a jar topped up with gin. The gin popped them off to sleep nice and easy and the prunes made … let’s just say “other things” … nice and easy the next day.
“Huh,” I thought, “Must be tough to get old and have to resort to such measures.”
Well … Meet my new best friend, Mr Prune Juice.
I am pretty sure we were not friends back when I was pregnant at 22.
In fact, back then I had no idea who or why you would ever drink Prune Juice. But now? Oh now, we are best mates. I have a shot every morning as part of the breakfast routine. It *ahem* keeps things operational. I do so wish I could try the gin trick but we don’t want to pickle Little Miss before she arrives. She’s going to have enough fun with traces of wine in the boob juice because MUMMY NEEDS A DRINK, DARLING.
Funny how things change over the years. It’s been so long since I was last pregnant, I only have vague recollections at best with no hope of remembering the fine minutiae.
It was only when I sat down to write this post that I realised it is exactly 21 years, almost to the day, since I was 16 weeks pregnant last time. Little Miss is actually due around March 25 and my youngest son (soon to be ousted from his title as ‘the baby of the family’ after an impressive reign) made his arrival on March 22.
I still find it hard to believe we’re here, to be honest. It’s been such a long, hard road with so many tears along the way. I was only reading the other day that babies such as Little Miss are often referred to as “Rainbow Babies” – the shining beauty that comes after the rain.
So far, this has been a relatively problem-free pregnancy with just the usual stuff you’d expect from a huge influx of hormones and the beginnings of major construction of a small human being. I have been very lucky with the morning sickness, although it was more like ‘all-day’ sickness from week 6 to week 13.
When I say ‘lucky’, I mean I felt disgusting and there were a few occasions when I had to stop and take very deep breaths to avoid throwing up – but I didn’t actually chuck. When I hear some of the stories of throwing all day and being hospitalised – yeah, I would call myself lucky.
And now that’s settled down, the bump is really starting to pop out and I can feel the tiny little movements that signal I’m not imagining things – we really are having a baby.
This is the glory time when it’s lovely being pregnant and I intend on enjoying it.