I am queasy, irritable and dehydrated. My heavy-drinking days have trained me well for having a baby
I am pregnant. I think I’m supposed to say we’re pregnant but it feels more like I’m the pregnant one. He is just reading about being pregnant. Aloud. From a tediously saccharine baby manual, while I mutter things such as, “What? No brie? That’s bullshit,” under my breath.
I was going to announce it on Instagram by posing in my bra and wearing a veil in front of a wall of roses, but then I remembered I’m not Beyoncé, so I just texted all my mates: “Guess what?” and a baby emoji. Many replied saying they had guessed. Apparently, the fact that I wasn’t drinking on any given evening was so out of character that they knew I was pregnant before I could even utter the words “lubricated vaginal ultrasound wand”.
Continue reading...from Pregnancy | The Guardian http://ift.tt/2oAKbBR
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