HAD a flash of realisation the other day that in a matter of two months I will be the proud mother of two – yikes!

I already feel a little sorry for our second born as I am sure the first time round I was lapping up every detail of my pregnancy, checking on what was developing on any given week and faithfully recording its first kicks and scans. The newest baby book looks woefully short on material in comparison while the nursery looks much the same as it did when we moved in – brown.

I am barely remembering midwife appointments and when people enquire how it is going, I respond with a quick “fine thanks” rather than with chapter and verse on my rate of expansion and what was drooping or disappearing from view that particular week.

I have resolved to launch myself into baby preparation mode once the summer holidays are behind us and my maternity leave begins.

Not knowing whether we are having a boy or a girl means that, although we have the gear, there could be a wholesale change of wardrobe to consider should the shock of all shocks happen and I produce a girl.

I say that because on my husband’s side they have resolutely failed to bear any girls for generations. Although I was tempted to discover the sex I knew I would regret it the moment I did as after all that hard work I would really like to have some news that I didn’t already know.

I really do not care what is delivered, as long as it is happy and healthy. Ben is quite keen on a brother but his biggest concern appears to be stressing that he ‘will be bigger’ when he or she arrives.