The shell-shock is wearing off. Slowly, but surely. The panic is also dissipating thanks to finally sharing our news - and my fears with some very good friends (2 also pregnant and 1 with 2 cute boys).

I'm still confused that God, Mother Nature, whoever, would let the two of us become parents. We can barely look after ourselves... We're in debt. I have no job. We know NO ONE in this new place. D'oh.

There is a 2/3 year-old who lives in our building. It's 8 floors with no lift (not looking forward to the later months even if we're only on the 4th floor). This poor kid lives above us somewhere and HATES walking up the stairs. Every day he has a tantrum as his mother tries to convince him that it's the only way to get home. This boy SCREAMS his head off. One day, his poor mother had clearly had enough and left him on the stairs - outside our apartment - to cry/ scream/ stamp his feet. M was not amused. He opened the door and told him to 'go cry somewhere else'. We could hear the sniffling getting quieter and quieter. Oops.

I'm feeling very, very sick today. Even eating my favourite strawberry jam and cheddar cheese on toast with ginger beer isn't working. Sniff.