I've tried to keep baby stuff to a minimum on here, but I think I'll do sporadic updates just so you're in the know! People uninterested in anything to do with pregnancy (which was me until 19 weeks ago) look away now.

So currently I'm in the 18th week (of 40): nearly half way, then. I have what they call an anomaly scan at 20 weeks so am looking forward to that, because I'm just assuming there won't be any anomalies (if there are, worrying about it won't help) and there's a chance we can find out the gender, unless it's being very coy. Some people are anti-finding out the sex, others really want to. I figure that there are going to be so many surprises and new things to deal with that having one big thing known in advance is better.

Andy and I are going to enrol in hypnobirthing classes in a couple of weeks, too. It doesn't stop it being painful, but it does stop you tensing up as much and if I've learned anything from martial arts it's that the body works a lot better, and hurts a lot less, when it's not tense.

Regarding fatness: I am fat. No question about it. My thighs rub together - they don't just brush, they rub - which has to be one of the grossest feelings ever to be experienced in life. I have put on 18 pounds in 18 weeks, thanks to my own peculiar brand of morning sickness which meant I felt sick unless I had toast in my stomach. I have huge knockers (which apparantly will get huger) and a big, round, pregnant belly. And I'm not even half way through yet. But, oddly, I still have a waist which makes all the difference in the world. Just so long as I wear my amazing maternity jeans (Next) or my amazing trousers (Isabella Oliver) and a bump band, I look relatively nice. In fact, I probably look bloody sexy, what with all the curves and that, if you go for that sort of thing. And whereas normally I would be horrified about being so voluminous, what can I do? I don't seem to be too bothered.

Regarding sickness: it is over. I wouldn't say I'm blooming, but I'm definitely feeling happy as larry. That'll be the hormones. They really should bottle them. Nothing seems weird: the fact there's a melon-sized alien in my belly stealing my nutrients doesn't seem weird, which is weird. My hair is quite nice, except for that my Cruella de Ville white streak is ultra pronounced because you're not meant to dye your hair in pregnancy. In fact, I feel very well indeed - if a bit out of puff sometimes as the last vestiges of my fitness crumble away. (Also I read that the hormones and the squishing of lungs make you breathless. I'm hoping it's more that than being dreadfully unfit, which is sadly more like it.)

Oh, and s/he's kicking! With his or her little noodley appendages. That's what it feels like - little noodley arms and legs kicking and punching. Perhaps I am carrying the second coming.

We have decided on names - two for each sex. I'm not telling you them, though, because you might not like them and then we'd fall out.

I am obsessed by fruit, now that the toast phase is over. Satsumas, pineapple, berries, bananas and more satsumas are my favourite. I am also enjoying avocado, tomato, purple sprouting broccolli, cabbage, leek and kale. Oh, and parsley with everything. And yoghurts. (Not parsley and yoghurt together, though. That would be silly.)

So, in summary, all is progressing nicely and with the minimum amount of bother; much fruit is being consumed and all is well with the world.