Helloooo from the ever expansive world of black lycra clothing. I'm down to two outfits and one of those is pyjamas.

Today marks my being 39 days and 5 days pregnant. Which is the most pregnant I've ever been. Here is photographic proof.

Before I go on I should just clarify that I'm not complaining. Well I am, but not without the deep appreciative understanding that expecting a baby is perhaps the most wonderful place to be. So please don't think I don't realise how lucky we are.

However, I keep banging into things. I've given myself matching grazes on each side of the bump because I clearly have no idea how big it actually is. My ribs are so painful, the sensation veers between distinctly uncomfortable and excruciatingly painful. I keep surprising myself with how loud my footsteps sound as I make my way around the house. I sound like a giant.

I want to live in the bath. Getting my own socks and shoes on is nigh on impossible.

The stretchmarks left over from carrying babies one and two are unzipping as we speak. After Brodie I realised I had stretchmarks but they only came up to my belly button. With Grier I was left with a higher tidemark and this time I suspect I'll have a tiger striped chin soon enough.

I'm bored of my own thoughts. I keep dreaming that I've 'missed' the baby, like I've missed my chance to bring my newborn home but I've no idea where he/she's gone.

I'm not even past my due date yet it's just that I never expected to be here. Having two babies come in weeks 38 and 39 has completely messed with me. I'm not sure why I'm finding this so hard to compute. Rationally this seems ridiculous but emotionally it's wringing me out.

I suspect if you've been there yourself you'll be nodding sagely and perhaps chuckling at my naivety. You'll be full of advice about the fact that babies come when they are good and ready. Which of course I know. If you're a man you may be busy working out the 'worse case scenario' ie, one cannot remain pregnant forever. If this is you Genius I'd like to offer you this fork in order that you may stick it in your eye.

I'm kind of shooting myself in the foot here but I wonder if the reason the baby hasn't made their appearance is because I'm not quite prepared. I mean physically I'm as prepared as I can be - with major renovation work due to begin on our house, space and organisation are sort of second in line to 'making do' and 'getting through' but that's fine, we'll deal with it.

Emotionally I feel a bit fragile though. Brodie is due to have the (routine, straightforward) operation on his ears in the next few weeks and I'm willing to admit to major anxiety around the general anaesthetic. He's asthmatic and he's my (5 year old) baby. Not to mention I'm going to have an actual newborn baby to consider.

I've been having regular irregular contractions since Friday. I actually asked Greig to take kids to Granny's overnight because I thought they were starting to come closer and more intensely but by about 3am they had petered out. Since then I've had a couple of hours of contractions most evenings but they don't seem to be actually doing anything.  They do make sleep difficult though and did I mention I'm bored of myself yet?

This time around I haven't been as worried about going from 2 to 3 offspring. Last time I was a basket case but 2 year old Brodie adapted to his sister without skipping a beat. There was always more than enough love to go around and there will be this time too I'm sure.  Plain sailing is never likely with kids but I'm thrilled that we are adding another person to our family.  So, what I'm saying Baby 3 is that from the outside your family may look chaotic and disorganised and messy but it's exactly where you need to be. Come on out, it's lovely I promise....