There are two months in my pregnancy that I will never forget - the first and the last. The first month because I was so scared I woud lose this special pregnancy and the last month because it was a damn confusing month. I was excited and scared at the same time - a lot was going on in my head, and the weather did not help it either. January was so I hot, I could hardly keep my head straight. And I was still working.
The last month was hard. Some days I was ready for the baby to come out. Some days I just wanted her to stay in. It was easy to carry her around with me. I was tired in all senses of being tired. I remember used to talk to Nana and beg her to come out so I could finally get some sleep. I mean that alone is some kind of losing it!
I fiddled with her bag which I was advised to pack ready from the seventh month, always making sure I had everything I would need when that moment came. Although I had carried a child before, sixteen years had gone by and I was younger then. Now I was older and full of life’s complications.