The story so far: Josa Young has 2 children aged eleven and eight. She’s now 41 and expecting another baby. 22 weeks into pregnancy, here’s how it feels for her

I realise my breathlessness, particularly when reading to the children, is probably because my bra is too tight. I go to an old-fashioned haberdasher and manage to buy bra-extenders. These are wide bits of elastic with loops that you sew onto the strap to loosen your bras. More cost-effective than new bras, at this stage, and I don’t intend another investment until I need nursing bras.

Nursing bras, last time, were white only and penitential in design. These days, I am thrilled to find leopard-spotted and black ones, lace trimmed and sexy and frequently made of comfortable cotton. It seems that manufacturers are responding to women’s needs. I hope it encourages more people to breastfeed.

One downside is the acid indigestion, which has just started up as the fundus, or top of the womb, rises to interfere with the stomach. Some days are really frightful, and I swallow heartburn-relief medicine and feel terribly sick. The effect is to make it even more difficult to eat, as the stomach acid burns its way upwards towards my throat.

I have to take the clothing issue seriously now. Nothing normal fits. I found a large stretchy black velvet dress in a charity shop, which is very useful. I have two dresses made by my late mother – one for each of my other children. Finally, I went out and bought a pair of loose maternity jersey trousers and a tunic. The trousers turn out to have plenty of growing room and are inclined to fall down.

And relaxation

I have started going to pregnancy yoga on Monday afternoons. Surrounded by women with bumps of various sizes, I begin to come to terms for the first time with being pregnant, publicly. Previously it was quite a private business. It feels good to exchange ideas about pregnancy. I am relieved to see that some of the mothers look at least as old as me, if not older.

The best thing about the yoga is the breathing – you are forced to think about pulling the breath deeply into your lungs and letting it out slowly, all the way through the hour and a half session. Also, the stretching – I always feel terrific afterwards, however ghastly I felt before. We are reminded forcibly of the need for pelvic floor exercises – which we do in unison. Sort of synchronised squeezing. Lolly Stirk, the teacher is kind and empathetic, and full of good practical advice.

At the end of the session a new mother comes in with her tiny boy. He is a couple of weeks old, and very alert – gazing about with boot-button eyes. I draw near, fascinated – I have forgotten so much. I touch his little hand. My situation becomes more real to me. With any luck, next year I might be one of these proud new mothers with their tales of birth. I won’t be like this little fellow’s mum though – she’s as slim as a reed in cream coloured, flat-fronted trousers. Where did she keep that baby?

See Anastasia's pregnancy diary for week 22.