It seemed to me last year that every second person was carrying a fat load also known as a baby, but this year pregnancy is the new black. Everyone's doing it. First there's the magnificent Maggie McMountain who is due any day now. Then there's Harper's aunty Elizabeth who is due in November, my crafty pal Dairne who is a sublime knitter and crocheter and will have the warmest baby ever. Of course, Ms Harland is up the duff, but she's done this twice before. Today I just heard that my old school chum Lisa is 12 weeks pregnant and I can't stop smiling about it. Her and Tom are going to be awesome, awesome parents.
This wave of new mothers makes me instantly want to give advice so they can avoid some of the pitfalls I've been through. But I'm not sure I actually have any advice to give. I know what works and doesn't work for us, sometimes Harper is an absolute mystery to me and I can't figure out what to do with him. I read too many books and the conflicting advice jangles in my head. I did have an epiphany one day listening to an interview on National Radio with a woman who was born by the side of the road in Zimbabwe who now works with Aids orphans, that Harper is going to be a-ok even if he doesn't wear organic cotton from birth or if I don't have him reciting numbers in Mandarin before he goes to school.