A thump at the bottom of the stairs lets me know the post has arrived so I make my way down hoping that the little hats I ordered for Bean have arrived. As I bend down to pick up the pile of letters and a small parcel, every joint creaks in protest. I am now at the point where I just want Bean to arrive; I am fed up with being the size of a house, not sleeping and feeling the constant need to pee.
Slowly I make my way back up the stairs, grateful that I have the place to myself so no one can hear me cursing under my breath. Taylor is in London for meetings all day and Stix is working downstairs in Cake so I have the place to myself for some much-needed peace and quiet after the events of the weekend.
Sitting down at the breakfast bar I reach for my coffee as I begin sorting through the
