Oh, and stop worrying that I'm pregnant again. Feels great to know I've put on a few pounds by everyone yelling 'baby' at me.
DD was born on my mums floor delivered by a paramedic who himself didn't even think I was pregnant, he thought it was an especially painful miscarriage. She was a perfectly healthy little girl, when I just thought I'd pulled a muscle or had food poisoning. Shock and awe. We took a long while to adjust to a baby we didn't expect but she has slotted in brilliantly (born 3 days short of a year after her brother, they are best of friends)
Almost two years on I still have my own issues to deal with about it, let alone having to deal with comments from others. Oh I'm mad.