Despatches from a mother who started late (and is running to catch up)

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Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

Darkest before dawn - Moon Walk II

Moon Walk organisers warned us there would be hills aplenty in our night's walking. And we were barely out of the pink tented village (pictured left) at Inverleith Park, where the Moon Walk started this year, before we were climbing a street called East Fettes Avenue, a road notorious for both length and gradient.

One of my biggest fears beforehand was that I wouldn't be able to keep up with my sister, Auntie 'Ona, and her pals. But despite the hills, we quickly settled into a pace that felt right for all of us. By the time we turned into the West End, the heart of Edinburgh's commercial district, the butterflies in my stomach were settling down too.

I'm not sure which was the strangest part of the experience - walking on the roads (not pavements), walking at night-time, or walking in a feathered bra adorned with sequins (photographic evidence above left). Perhaps what was really strangest was just walking anywhere at all without a buggy.

Speaking of buggies, all the months of pushing the girls about town in the tank must have done me more good than I realised, because the tiredness didn't kick in until we had passed Edinburgh Castle, all lit up in pink for the Moon Walk, and we were at the foot of a large local hill called Arthur's Seat.

For anyone who doesn't know Edinburgh, Arthur's Seat is an outcrop of desolate volcanic rock that dominates the Edinburgh skyline and is often the first sight for anyone approaching the city. It is lovely to see when driving home, but not so great to climb in the dark with a dodgy pelvis. The organisers had done their best by fixing special flood lighting to cheer the place up, and there were dozens of volunteers about to ensure safety, but the darkness was still eery.

Then on the way down, at about 2am, we heard the first blackbird singing of the day. Our spirits lifted. The night was nearly over and the hardest part of the walk done. We walked on, then as we turned a corner, the most wonderful - and unexpected - sight greeted us. It was urban Edinburgh. Many of us laughed in relief to see the city's spires and lights spread out in front of us. "Keep going, girls, you've nearly done eight miles," called out one of the volunteers.

There's still time if you feel like supporting me -

The last five miles to follow soon....

Posted 25 June 2009 20:50 | Number of comments: 7 | Comments

Activities Fun Health Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

Moon Walk - part one

If I'm being honest, I had serious doubts about whether I'd manage the thirteen miles for the Half Moon, but a combination of adrenalin, friendship, group solidarity and pasta got me over the finish line in Inverleith Park at 4.27am on Sunday. I staggered home at 5am and have only stopped sleeping since then to phone friends and family, take hot baths and gorge on yet more carbohydrates. We arrived at the giant pink fluorescent tent about 9pm the night before, checked out the loos, got temporary tattoos, took photos and feasted on the pasta the organisers had provided for all the walkers. We sat on the tent floor and arranged our decorated bras while a band called Swing Cats played. A doctor from a local hospital here in Edinburgh told us how the money raised is going to build a second operating theatre and rebuild the breast cancer ward there. She was crying as she spoke. Then we all stood up, linked hands and had a minute's silence while we thought about loved ones affected by breast cancer. Tears were pouring down many people's faces. The mood lightened when an aerobics instructor got on stage and had us all - all ten thousand of us, men as well as women, young and old - dancing and warming up.

Hundreds of Edinburgh residents came out onto the streets to cheer us on. A thousand volunteers stayed up all night to keep us all going, waiting on street corners to encourage us and give us bottles of water. Paramedics were driving about on quad bikes. The police held up traffic for us. Drivers tooted their horns. My sister was high-fiving people on the pavement who'd come to cheer us on.

A night to remember.

Further write-ups to follow.... when I've recovered sufficiently.

Posted 22 June 2009 21:25 | Number of comments: 10 | Comments

Activities Edinburgh Friends Health Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

Moon Walk

It's less than a week to go now until I set off with thousands of other men and women to walk a half-marathon in this year's Edinburgh Moon Walk to raise money to fight breast cancer. I have been worrying about making a idiot out of myself during this event, since I'll be wearing just a decorated bra and leggings for the occasion, with nothing to cover my flabby stomach from the elements. I'm nervous as hell about the challenge, not just because of the exposed flesh, but because I haven't done as much training as I should have done and I still have residual pelvic problems from my pregnancy-related pelvic girdle pain. But I'm going to get round that course. One reason why I'm not giving up is my on-line blog friend Iota, who often comments on this site and can be found at Not Wrong But Different writing about expatriate life as a British woman in the US. She and I have never met in real life, since our lives are separated by the Atlantic Ocean, but I like to think that if circumstances had been different and we lived closer to each other we would be the greatest of friends, in and out of each other's homes, sharing lots of silly jokes, quaffing white wine, enjoying the same pleasure in laughing at the ridiculous. We are from similar backgrounds and of similar ages. We both enjoy writing. We both have young families. When my daughter Button was born, Iota sent a present for her, wooden alphabet letters spelling out Button's real non-blog name that Va-vay took great pride in attaching to her bedroom door, and a book for Button's elder sister Beanie. You know the sort of person I mean, don't you? Iota is one of life's good people. Then not long ago, she discovered a lump in her breast. The lump turned out to be cancer. Iota has just had to undergo a double mastectomy. She's done so with exemplary courage and dignity, but still doesn't yet know if that's been enough for her to nail this disease. So walking thirteen miles in a bra across Edinburgh at night-time doesn't seem like much to ask in comparison. I know that times are tough for lots of us right now, but if any of you are feeling generous, please click on this link to sponsor me.

Posted 16 June 2009 13:39 | Number of comments: 12 | Comments

Edinburgh Friends Health Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

Goodbye Mr Chips

Since having younger daughter Button last July, nigh on ten months ago, I have lost 17lbs in weight. The equivalent of thirty four packets of butter. I am back in my old jeans, have more energy, feel more attractive and am suffering less joint pain. Unlike popular myth, I lost no weight while breastfeeding. In lactation, my body craved milk shakes and fillet steak. It showed. The weight has only started to come off since the end of feeding. Portion control and healthy eating, swapping my full-fat lattes for Americanos, avoiding mindless biscuit eating and switching to low-fat sauces have helped shed the pounds. Jogging around the local park with Button in her buggy is getting me in shape. Thanks to a creche at the local council gym, where I sometimes leave Button, I pound the treadmill too. But strangers, chiefly shop assistants, still smile in a benevolent way and ask: "And when are you due, dear?" I no longer burst into tears at these words as I did a few months ago. But I intend to lose another 14lbs in weight by the time Button turns one this coming July. To get back to my old weight from a couple of years ago. Post-pregnancy weight is one thing; when it turns into middle-aged spread that's something else. Then again, maybe slow baby weight loss is nothing to do with age. As I sit here, half my mind on lunch, my thoughts have turned to chips. Warm, salted, calorific, diet-busting chips.

Posted 09 May 2009 12:39 | Number of comments: 1 | Comments

Health Pelvic girdle pain/SPD Pregnancy

"Eglantine, Eglantine...."

After promising to post at least once a week, I've been most remiss in failing to hit my stated target. Apologies. I'm not yet back at (paid) work but, as many of you would know, life spent looking after two small children is busy (I've written this before, haven't I?) - and also, let's be honest here, more fun than messing about in the blogosphere. Am stealing a few moments to write this as both girls watch Bedknobs and Broomsticks - only the eighteenth such viewing in two weeks. This is a quick round-up post. Beanie has started ballet lessons and I am extremely proud. Va-vay is singing again - mostly snatches from Beanie's DVDs, a sample being "Eglantine, Eglantine, my how you shine!" We have joined Edinburgh Zoo - a year's family membership costs a stiff £110, but since we've already been there three times in just one week, and an individual visit costs close to £30, it's not looking like bad value. Button finds her elder sister vastly entertaining and does everything in her ability to copy Beanie's escapades. Just as soon as Button can get that second arm out she'll be crawling. We have embraced soft play. The dreaded Nipper 360 Out and About buggy - I went for the side-by-side model in the end, not the stacking Phil and Ted version, which might, hard to be sure, but might have been a mistake - is finally proving more biddable. I've overcome my faulty spatial dynamics chip (the same one that gives me problems with parking, though on the plus side this means I have met several nice neighbours who park the car for me) to judge door width and manoeuvre the buggy's vast girth. We trundle over with the beast of burden to the Botanics most days. We still help fuel the brisk trade in babycinos and dinosaur boxes in local cafes. The washing basket has magically acquired the ability to reproduce on its own. Hourly. I am doing a few botanical courses that I'm enjoying. All ordinary stuff - but I'm loving it. Well, okay, maybe not the washing, but the rest of it. I'm going to be helping the Pelvic Partnership, a charity that helps women with pregnancy-related pelvic girdle pain, with generating press coverage. On a less positive note, training for June's Moon Walk has faltered, since most evenings I'm good for nothing but supper and bed. All normal, I know. But since I've started collecting sponsorship money for the walk, I have no excuse for this kind of loafing about and plan to start pounding the Edinburgh pavements again at the end of this week. Some kind readers have already generously given money for the cause - many thanks again to you all. The event aims to raise money to support women with breast cancer and fund research into treatment. I know money is tight for lots of people right now, but if anyone can spare a few pounds for this worthy cause it'd be much appreciated. You can donate on-line here.

Two readers each won a copy of Instructions Not Included, Charlotte Moerman's book about bringing up her three small boys. They are Kate Stewart Roper and Avril Davidson.

Okay, and on that note I can hear from the TV that Eglantine, Mr Brown and the children have despatched the Nazis back to Germany with the help of family solidarity, Walt Disney and a few magic spells. My signal to close here.

Posted 04 May 2009 11:43 | Number of comments: 2 | Comments

Activities Daughters Edinburgh Fun Out and about Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

Getting real

Browsing through some old pregnancy books the other day I felt depressed all over again at the sight of so many glowing faces and pregnant-yet-still-sexy silhouettes in the illustrations. Not a stretchmark in sight between the lot of them. No 're-purposed' wastepaper bins in evidence. No retching at the mere whiff of a fridge door opening within a half-mile vicinity of their airtouched nostrils. And certainly nothing to indicate that any of the women were semi-disabled by pregnancy-related pelvic pain that made it hard even to turn over in bed at night, much less take part in a photo shoot. I know, I know, publishers have to sell the books, but still.....

An estimated one in five women suffer debilitating pelvic pain in pregnancy - albeit in varying degrees of intensity. But most mainstream pregnancy books, wonderful and informative though they are in many respects, simply don't carry much information about pelvic girdle pain in pregnancy. I don't know why not. My impression - I could be wrong - is that more generally - even in the medical community - there's not as much information available about the condition as there might be. The dearth of information is particularly sad, as any woman stuck at home all day in considerable pain, blaming herself for her immobility, is going to be isolated anyway, or at least limited in her social contact. The lack of information only exacerbates her difficulties. I found my lovely midwife and GP were both sympathetic and supportive, and I'm extremely grateful for all the skilled care I received from them and many others in the NHS during and after both my pregnancies, but it was only when chatting with an old schoolfriend (a physio by background) that I stumbled by accident on the vital fact that innovative physiotheraphy techniques are being pioneered that make pelvic girdle pain treatable. Up until then I'd got the impression it was just something you had to put up with, if you were unlucky enough to be afflicted in the first place. The bad news? This treatment wasn't available in the NHS - not in my part of the country, anyway.

It's good to know that new charity PINS, which presents a compassionate and realistic picture of what pregnancy can be like for many women, is working to let more people know all about the condition, ranging from the risk factors that may make some women more likely to get pregnancy-related pelvic pain than others, to the latest treatments available. It has hints and tips for managing the condition and personal accounts from its members, so people will feel less alone in their struggles. Even better is that the charity is waiving its membership fee until its AGM next month, so if you have been affected by any issues relating to pelvic girdle pain in pregnancy you can join up for free. Benefits include the charity's quarterly newsletter and the chance to meet on-line and swap tips with others suffering the same difficulties. Even though I'm no longer pregnant (Button turns nine months this week) and luckily my joint pain has lifted, I've joined PINS, so I can support other people with the condition and make better sense of what happened to me.

Posted 21 April 2009 15:16 | Number of comments: 4 | Comments

Health workers Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

Softly, softly

It's hard to resist the siren lure of 'soft play' centres when you are the parent of an under-three. They offer cheap and accessible entertainment. They tire your child out. Thus ensuring he or she will sleep well later that evening. Unlike real parks, there are no dogs. They sell skinny decaff lattes. You can go even when it's raining. What's to argue with? But, not being a big fan of a) communal playgrounds b) grubby PVC c) foam wadding d) crowds of other children (too potentially scary) or e) primary colours, I held out for some time against these places. Plus, from what I'd seen of toddlers 'interacting' (big infant buzz word) with each other, I suspected the play might not be all that 'soft'. However, last week I - finally - became a convert to these pre-schooler Meccas. A friend persuaded me and my two daughters to join her and her child at this Edinburgh variant on the theme. For the modest sum of £3, elder daughter was able to clamber at will for an hour around ramps, tunnels, netting, steps and mock fairy castle, grinning her delight at me as she did so. It was nice to feel I was doing something right after a disappointing trip involving fish that I posted about the other week. Parents are not only discouraged at this particular soft play place from staying with their children in the play area, they are forbidden from doing so. I had expected the hands-off approach to be difficult. In practice, it was liberating. And daughter's enjoyment appeared in no way diminished for not having me fussing round her. This rule has the benefit that it left her younger sister Button and I free to sit at the tables adjacent to the play area, watching as Beanie giggled, scrambled and raced around the rigging. I have tried soft play once before, at this place, where I was forced to crouch next to something called a 'ball pit' (exactly what the description says, no more, no less) while breastfeeding Button, with cracked nipples, and attempting to preserve a fragile facade of competence and good humour as I prevented an older child (whose mother would have had little trouble securing employment as a barge woman) from pushing Beanie down some steps. A wretched experience. It also had the disadvantage that its clientele could - theoretically at least - escape from their carers at any time if you weren't sufficiently vigilant (it's probably no coincidence that when I say 'vigilant' I'm borrowing a word more commonly used in the vocabulary of people who fight against terrorism). Whereas last week's place had a gate and security system that meant it felt safe to relax, enjoy one of the above-mentioned lattes and let Beanie get on with it. My friend, who is savvier in these matters than me, took a look round when we arrived and said: "Good. No trouble-makers today." So, obviously, as her comment implies, there can be difficulties, but we didn't experience any last week. If it wasn't for being stuck at home for so many months, semi-immobile with pelvic joint pain in pregnancy, we'd probably be fully signed-up fans of soft play by now. Give us a few more months, and we doubtless will have put that right.

Posted 23 March 2009 23:42 | Number of comments: 8 | Comments

Activities Edinburgh Missing sanity Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

Giant step for womankind

Anyone who saw me seven months ago, when pelvic pain in pregnancy made it a struggle to reach the end of the street, might be surprised - and pleased too, I hope - to hear I've signed up for this year's Moon Walk - a fund-raiser for Walk the Walk, a charity which supports women affected by breast cancer and funds research into this dreaded illness. It's amazing the difference a few months and some decent physiotherapy can make. The walk will take me, together with my fellow walker and great friend Vanessa from Fidra Books, much further than the end of the street. Together with around 12,000 other people, we'll be walking 13 miles through the darkened streets of Edinburgh on the night of 20th/21st June. A close friend of mine is fighting breast cancer and my mother has recently lost a friend to it. Nearer the time, I'll be asking you if you can spare a few quid in sponsorship for this fantastic cause.

We have begun our training. But no point in overdoing things. Vanessa, who writes here about her motivation for doing the walk, and I are building up slowly to the full 13 miles. This is humbling. Five years ago, I could walk 20 miles in a day without undue effort. Last week we managed our first two practice walks - of three miles. It was knackering. My legs hurt. My pelvis hurt. Worst of all, my pride hurt. This week, we might - might - tackle four miles.

But what a difference compared to being pregnant with Button. One Saturday in summer last year, ten days overdue, I made it as far as the fabric department of a local store. Quite an achievement in those days. All around us, women were trying out pink feathers, sequins and ribbons, giggling and holding them up to their chests to see what they looked like. "What's going on?" I asked the assistant. "It's the Moon Walk tonight," she explained. "It's to decorate their bras for the Moon Walk. To raise money for breast cancer." That was my introduction to the event. I'm thrilled - and only just a little bit daunted - that this year, all being well, I'll be out walking the walk too.

Coming up soon: reviews of My Bump and Me, by Myleene Klass, and Instructions Not Included; One Mum, Three Boys and a Very Steep Learning Curve, by Charlotte Moerman.

Posted 23 February 2009 12:54 | Number of comments: 7 | Comments

Button Edinburgh Friends Out and about Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

Blog re-think

Regular readers of this blog might have noticed I haven't been posting much of late. Sorry about that. I do have a good excuse. New baby and all that. Many of you being mothers yourselves, there's little need to describe the chaos - joyful chaos, mind, but still chaos - involved in caring for a newborn. But Button is now more than six months old, sleeping through the night, eating three bowls of gloop daily (if you don't count the stuff that goes on her bibs) and beaming at us the rest of the time from her bouncy chair in the kitchen. Life has settled into some kind of tentative new equilibrium. I must admit I feel nervous writing things like that. As if tempting fate to throw everything up in the air again. Really hoping that doesn't happen. Could quite enjoy a nice, calm stretch of time. Facing nothing more momentous than a new route for the nursery run. Or going to this place for morning coffee; instead of this one. Life on a grand scale. But anyway, it's time to revisit the blog. After a longish gap from regular posting, I'm taking the opportunity to rethink what I want this site to be about. Until I work that out, my plan is to post around once a week on random subjects connected with pregnancy and parenting, none of them, it must be said, particularly connected with being a late starter mum, just things I personally happen to find interesting and that could be relevant to mums of all ages. Have done a couple of recent postings on help for pelvic pain in pregnancy, a subject close to my heart since, like an estimated one in five of all pregnant women, I suffered from the condition myself in both my pregnancies, and I'll be posting more on this subject from time to time. Partly to promote awareness of the problem, partly to offer support to women left immobile in their pregnancies by it. On a lighter note, now that I'm back on my feet and getting out and about more, I'll also be writing more about local activities in Edinburgh for toddlers and babies, looking at what's available and providing a few reviews. Last month I started classes in this practice, (pictured) which Button and I are both loving, and at some point in the next couple of weeks I'll be writing more about my experiences there. I've already posted about my adventures in the local park with other neighbourhood mums. There'll be other postings, too, looking at the pros and cons of different activities such as Baby Cinema, playgroups and the like.

Posted 03 February 2009 15:21 | Number of comments: 6 | Comments

Blogging Daughters New baby Out and about Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

The good news - it's treatable

Went for physio yesterday at this excellent establishment for my pelvic pain, one of the less welcome legacies from pregnancy. The physios there have won a well-deserved reputation for working wonders in women's health by usng a pioneering range of techniques for treating pelvic pain both during and after pregnancy. I've heard only good things about the practice and it was easy to see why people speak so highly of them. After two treatments I'm now able to get up from a chair and walk, no longer any pain involved.

Physiotherapist and founder Helen Thomson set up her practice more than 15 years ago after study overseas introduced her to innovative methods of treating pelvic pain. She realised that techniques available in this country weren't as effective as those she'd seen in other countries and so established Thomson Physiotherapy, now based in a tiny village near Falkirk in Scotland.

It was an old friend, co-founder of the Pelvic Partnership, a charity to help women with this condition, who chivvied me into going for physio. When she first suggested the idea, I explained I'd already been to see hospital physios, all of whom were very nice and who had given me exercises and advice. Not good enough, she said. "You need hands-on therapy. This condition is treatable. Phone around and find people who will do hands-on manual treatment."

As I was saying in an earlier posting, there's a common misconception that no treatment exists for pelvic pain in pregnancy and that prolonged pain and immobility is something people just have to endure until delivery. Or even beyond. Wonderful and supportive though my doctors in pregnancy were, none of them told me that my shuffling, hobbling gait was something that could be treated. In fact, appropriate and early physiotherapy, using manual techniques, can minimise pain and keep women mobile throughout pregnancy. Sadly, this type of physio isn't yet widely available in the NHS, for all its many strengths.

A new charity, called PINS, set up in 2007 by GP Moira Finlayson following her own battles with pelvic pain in pregnancy, is working to promote awareness of the problem (also sometimes known as SPD), and to support women and their families affected by the condition. Their site includes intelligent, thoughtful accounts of what it's like to live with pelvic pain and is well worth a visit.

Posted 08 January 2009 11:07 | Number of comments: 20 | Comments

Pregnancy Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

Help for pelvic pain in pregnancy

Like many pregnant women, I suffered from pelvic joint pain when expecting both my children, and got depressed being stuck at home all day, in considerable pain, reliant on other people for help with childcare and housework, even a trip to the loo a major expedition. I couldn't turn over in bed, get up from a chair or kneel down to change a nappy without suffering acute pain. What kept me going was the knowledge (or, at times, faltering hope) that the suffering was finite and I'd be rewarded with a baby daughter at the end of my ordeal. In even more extreme cases than mine, pregnant women have to resort crutches or a wheelchair. And, in rarer cases still, the pain doesn't lift following delivery (although, thank goodness, mine did), leaving women with limited mobility for the rest of their lives.

But there is good news for anyone suffering this problem, (and for anyone who might be considering another pregnancy, but is frightened of doing so after previous pelvic pain). A group of women, most of whom suffered pelvic pain (also known as Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction or SPD) themselves, have set up The Pelvic Partnership. It's a charity that aims to support women and their families, and also let people know the condition is actually treatable - not something that's widely known.

"There can be concern among health care professionals about treating women who are pregnant," says the charity. "As a result, women can be left in pain or immobile. In fact, there is a lot that can be done throughout pregnancy by physiotherapists and others who are trained and experienced in treating the condition. Early intervention can improve the long-term outcome and reduce pain."

The charity has a list of osteopaths, physiotherapists and chiropractors around the UK recommended by its members for treating pelvic pain in pregnancy. It also offers tips and advice on how to manage the condition on a daily basis, such as suggesting women apply for a blue (disabled) parking badge to make parking easier (never my strong point), take analgesia in time to make it work before bed, and avoid certain positions such as lying in bed with their legs straight (which can be hard on vulnerable parts of the pelvis). It has advice on what support's available through different routes (such as occupational therapists, health visitors, benefits agencies, au pairs). It talks, too, about how pelvic pain can affect family dynamics, sex and intimacy.

More than anything, it can be a comfort to know you're not alone in struggling through these painful experiences, especially since pelvic pregnancy pain can isolate women, keeping us stuck on our own at home all day. "Remember that you are not the only person who has SPD - it can help to meet and talk to other women with SPD who are experiencing similar problems. You will find they feel the same," says the charity.

So pay the Pelvic Partnership a visit. Or drop them a line at enquiries@pelvicpartnership.org.uk

Posted 21 November 2008 13:45 | Number of comments: 10 | Comments

Mother Pregnancy Domestic chaos Health Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

A belly good idea

Since my first 'belly bra' arrived by post two days ago, life has taken a turn for the better. Lest you were wondering, the 'bra' is a support garment for pregnant women. An 'intelligent, full torso' support garment, no less. At least, that is according to the (American) manufacturers. I mention this in case you thought it was underwear of choice for beer-swilling men from the North with names like Jimmy Five Bellies. Though they could probably put the belly bra to good use too. We all have our burdens to bear. Let's not be territorial here. At 29 weeks pregnant, struggling with pelvic aches and pain, I am finding it invaluable.

It's not quite the landmark in my life of getting fitted (aged 13) for my first bra, but I wouldn't like to underplay the garment's impact. Thanks to the 'bra', I can once more walk around without clinging onto table tops for support and wincing in pain. I can hoover the floor, get up and down from chairs, crouch on the floor to change nappies, race after Beanie in shops, stand at the cooker to make supper and - get this - walk further than the end of the street and back. It has, in short, transformed my life. After all, it's one thing to be a 'fashionably late' mum (I am 40). Something else to acquire the mobility of an arthritic 80-year-old. Many thanks to Catherine from Juxtapose who recommended one in a comment. I'd never even heard of such a thing a week ago.

Posted 24 April 2008 16:17 | Number of comments: 7 | Comments

Pelvic girdle pain/SPD

Bed-mates and bolsters

For the last week or so my husband and I have been sharing our bed with someone called Horace. With Horace's help, I can get comfortable enough to doze for a few hours at a time. Horace props up my bump, lessens my back pain and corrects my posture. When I talk to him, he really seems to listen. Never interrupts. And he's so bendy - must be all that polystyrene foam for innards.

Unfortunately, Va-vay is not supportive about our extra bed-mate. I have caught him shooting dark, jealous looks at my side of the bed as Horace and I snuggle up together.

"I might investigate a new air bed," he said the other night, in an airy but long-suffering way. "So I can sleep somewhere else and let you have the bed to yourselves."

"That's a good idea," I snipe back. "We could bring over the Zed-bed from my mum's."

"Have you ever slept on that Zed-bed?" he replied, as if I'd reminded him of childhood bullying, redundancy or first love.

"When you first came to stay with my parents you slept on the Zed-bed and you never said a thing about it!" I accused him.

"I was being polite."

"You were being repressed. If it was so bad you should have said something."

"Have you seen how much of the bed I have left to sleep on?" he says, indicating with his hands a space the width of a shopping bag.

Normally I would take pride in keeping this squabble up ages longer. But pregnancy has softened me.

"I don't want you to sleep elsewhere," I confess. "I like sharing a bed with you. That's why I married you."

"Oh, come here," he says.

"Err.... I would, but I can't," I say, pointing to 28-weeks-pregnant bump and Horace. "You'll have to come here."

In my last pregnancy I was nearly crippled with pelvic pain.

This time round the pain is shaping up to be just as bad - but I've been better at getting help in managing it. An obstetric physio at our local hospital has taught me techniques for staying mobile - mostly involving breathing (let's face it, breathing always helps) and stomach-tightening.

Next week she is going to fit me with something called an orthopaedic belt to hold in all the ligaments loosened by pregnancy hormones. I fear the belt might do nothing to boost marital relations but I'm - almost - beyond caring. And Horace won't mind.