It was a loooong 10 months
I didn’t wear pregnancy well. Not only was there the constant “is she still alive in there” stress, I didn’t see any glow, had ongoing insomnia and heartburn and frankly, I didn’t think my bump was cute. I know, everyone else did, but as the world around me oohed and aahed, I fretted. It was too low, too wide, and actually had its own mini bump (the result of a lifetime of NOT hitting the gym when I should have been). And conveniently, this is when the obsession with celebrity babies came about – my pals in pregnancy? Tori Spelling (with her 1st) and Marcia Cross. Neither emulated that Gwyneth-esque style I longed for, so frankly, it felt even more out of vogue. Don’t get me wrong, all I wished for (and prayed for and begged for) was a healthy baby, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting a little style with your seemingly never-ending sojourn into unsexy-land. And sadly, I never found it. But I never stopped looking.