Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

I have slowed down. I have grown, immensely. I'm like a ship now, as wide as I am tall, navigating ponderously down the street, incapable of quick or sudden movements. What a strange feeling, for an impatient person, to suddenly inhabit the body of a slow person. It has all sorts of knock-on impacts: I think more slowly, talk more slowly. I'm sitting here, typing slowly, with my woolly hat still on an hour after I came in from outside. I even remove my clothes more slowly.

Is that it? The sum total of pregnancy: I have become - slow? Of course not.

I have been feeling well, throughout, and exercising, and eating and generally not suffering. I am - I've remarked on this before - the luckiest girl alive. Physically at least. Emotionally, it took me about 4 months (and numerous self-help books of the kind I scorned even as I kept buying them) to come to terms with the reality of expecting twins.
I'm given to self-doubt, and there seemed so many things to doubt, in addition to myself. I worried that nobody would help us. I worried that I'd get post-natal depression. I worried that our relationship couldn't survive the strain. I panicked that I wouldn't be able to breastfeed - and I wouldn't have any bottles to bottle feed - and how would I know what to buy? The books only tell you how to breast feed! I lost sleep over car seats and cars, prams and buggies, cots and mattresses and safety standards and oh my god! How do stupid people have babies? It's so complicated!!

Now though, now I'm just slow, and heavy, and expectant. Two little boys. Any week now, they'll make their appearance. And if stupid people can raise babies, surely two neurotic freaks like us can.

Simon comes downstairs, and looks at me, surprised. "You're still awake?" This is the joy of late twin pregnancy: slow-moving, sleepy slothfulness. It won't last for long, of that we can be sure.

Photos to follow. I know I owe you photos.