Josa’s pregnancy diary - weeks 26-28

Thinking ahead and getting comfortable

I could never have predicted that I would be pregnant on my 42nd birthday. The fact eases the passing of the years. Although, this comes with the realisation that I will be near retirement age when this little person is at university. So there will never be a time when our nest is empty, while we are still youngish. However, I intend to remain fit and frisky, and take to backpacking again in my sixties.

The heartburn has receded somewhat – I find eating organic Greek yoghurt, and drinking Horlicks, last thing at night, really helps. I am sleeping better with a pillow between my knees, and I am trying to be careful not to drink too much water in the evenings, so I don’t have to get up to pee so often. The dreams have changed – from being negative and alarming. My subconscious keeps summoning up alternative baby boys for my inspection. One grows in three days to an exact replica of my eight-year-old son Archie – only, he is called Max. Another is large, plump and white blond, with blue eyes – that would be a genetic peculiarity, as my other two are brown-eyed brunettes.

The baby things have started to arrive – I remember this from last time, as the word gets round, you become a depository for hand-me-downs. And very grateful I am too. As there are less pregnant people around in my generation, and most of my friends and family have stopped reproducing, the range and quality is much higher. I remember receiving around 25 shrunken woollen vests for Archie – and not much else. Already, I have been given a coach-built pram, some really lovely clothes and even an electric breast pump. There is an embarrassment of cots, a bouncy cradle and a steriliser. Everything remains packed up, though – the baby’s room will be my office until the very last minute.