Monday 21st February
Your Dad is back from Berlin after a successful week making music. Your Dad is the most stunning singer. He sings you the most beautiful songs. You can't hear yet because your ears are just tiny sealed indents still but when your ears finally open you will. He will sing you the most beautiful lullabies.
After a blissfully relaxed snuggly Sunday Monday has loomed in like a dark cloud raining it's usual gloomy emails. I am so over the recession already. It feels like I spend most of my working hours dealing with the aftermath of unthoughtful ideas that have been implemented by the ConDem Government. Things feel less stressful at work since you have arrived. The winds of worry go round me and over me but they don't whistle through me any more.
That's not to say I don't worry. Today's worry is, well, that I don't have a worry. To be more clear I am fretting about the fact that I am feeling so good. I feel more energetic and healthier than I have done in a long time and I float around in a warm glow of soothing tranquillity. "Lucky you!" might be your response if you are amidst the throes of morning sickness. "I wish!" you might cry if you are beyond exhaustion. "I'd ring your neck if I set eyes on you" you might scream if your emotions keep plummeting you to hell and back. But, see, these symptoms you have, they are good signs, they are signs that your hormone level is sufficient and that your baby is thriving. This is why I am worried I feel so well.
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