spruced by marlene

How do I begin? Perhaps with this: two lines instead of one. Pregnant! Two lines, as unambiguous as the idea of pregnancy had seemed confusing beforehand. Two lines that were unexpected, baffling, euphoria-inducing and most of all – wonderful. Two lines like big fat exclamation marks.

Which were followed by quite a few questions. No question about it, this baby is a great good gift to James and me.

But still: Huh? Pregnant? Really?

Questions like: and now what? (Well, we’ll just have to find out) How’s the baby doing? (Great, phew) What will we be like as parents? (Well, we’ll just have to find out)

Questions like: will anybody in the office notice if I lie down for a nap under my desk? (Yes)

Questions like: why are we out of chocolate AGAIN? (Because I ate it all AGAIN)

My little passenger won’t just change everything when he arrives, he’s already doing that now. I’ve never been so tired, ecstatic, hungry, worried or drippy before – at the same time. I’m so bloody emotional that beer ads can make me cry. Then I remember that I can’t drink beer and cry a little more. Any more questions?

Yes, the not unimportant one that comes around the fourth month when the did-you-eat-too-much-pasta-for-lunch-belly turns into a second-trimester-belly: What will I wear? All those mornings when I’ve stood in front of my wardrobe, thinking I’ve got nothing to wear – they were a joke. I lost about 80 per cent of my wardrobe in the space of only a few weeks. Sure, I’ll get it all back eventually. But I’ve got to wear something until then. I only made the mistake of googling „maternity fashion“ once. Apparently most of the clothes for when you’re expecting either make you look mumsy even before giving birth. Or they cost half a fortune if you want something halfway pretty and smart. As I will probably spend a whole fortune on children’s clothes – tiiiny, cuuuute baby socks are the devil’s work! – my budget has limits.

So far, I’ve only bought one pair of mama jeans. What has worked better is buying regular clothes, just a size or two up. And here’s where I thank all the designers for the indestructible sportswear trend. Some of my discoveries have been slouchy black trousers from Zara with an elasticated waist and cashmere jogging bottoms from Cos, cotton tees from A.O.cms and The White Briefs, a variety of cardigans from the men’s section (which is what I like to call James’s side of the wardrobe). I’ve always been a jeans girl, but I’m suddenly loving dresses, especially roomy silk ones from All Saints and Cos. Since a lot of my sweaters don’t fit me properly anymore, I pair the dresses with all the blazers, college and biker jackets that I wore much too little before.

But as my belly will keep growing, here’s my question to you: Good maternity wear – does it exist? If so, where? And what am I going to do with my shoe collection if my feet really do grow a size during pregnancy?

James has already suggested that it’s perhaps best I sell them all.

I looked at him lovingly, my wonderful, football-loving, Arsenal-mad man, and asked him if he’s considered that his son could turn out to be a Man United supporter.

That’s one question we already have the answer to: It’s a boy.