Back of brain trying desperately to reach front of brain:
Why isn't she moving? I haven't felt her for hours! There's something wrong! there's something wrong!
Well. We'll see. In other pregnancy related shenanigans I at last gave in and bought a piece of "maternity wear". I am now the proud owner of a pair of jeans with a huge bucket like extra panel and stretchy sides. They hold themselves (surely this grammar is becoming tenuous) up by being so huge they stretch over the front of the belly completely, thus achieving a Hogarth-like Billy Bunter style trouser wearing look, with trews far stretched over a huge distended belly, high up almost to the armpits, and making me feel as if I should also have gout. Or be wearing braces and a small hat.
And I've also just had a load of watered down apple juice with super-wowee gubbins-what-is-good-for-you in with my lunch which has made me go a bit lightheaded.
Oh and I've been meaning to say this for absolutely ages and I keep forgetting. I am now at the stage where I literally loathe all smokers. All of them. Suppose you're walking next to a non-smoking woman who is pregnant and you're blowing smoke in to her face? Even worse if you're smoking a fucking cigarillo. How do you know she is pregnant? You don't necessarily. So the only answer is to NOT SMOKE AND BLOW YOUR SMOKE IN TO EVERYONE AROUND YOU'S FACES. Do you get it? Will you get defensive if I ask you to move rather than me coughing and wheezing and moving myself? Why I do believe you will. You will have to excuse me then if I start coughing in your face you INCONSIDERATE FUCKER.
(Note that the above is not in fact aimed at anyone I know at all - it's all people at train stations or waiting to cross roads of lighting up outside the damn tube station the *second* they get beyond the boundary, the pigfuckers).