I wasn’t sure if I was going to get the chance to post again between last week and today but my due date, which was Sunday, has now come and gone so here I still am.

 
It’s a strange limbo-like place to be, waiting for your baby to make an appearance. Her room is ready, hospital bags are packed, cupboards and fridge are stocked with soups, pastas and other things I trust Nico to be able to rustle up for me during my 10 day to 2 week ‘babymoon’ when I’m under strict instructions to stay cosied up in bed with the new arrival. Guess we’ll see how I do with that.

 
I think I timed finishing any proper work just about right, even though I only gave myself two weeks before my due date. I’m not generally the sort of person who enjoys lying on the sofa watching daytime TV so it took me a while to wind down but I also made sure I had a last hurrah in the form of a baby shower and early birthday tea (as, one way or another, I will be otherwise occupied on the day) at Blakes, my favourite hotel in London. It was a great way to see about fifteen of my closest girlfriends all at once, the staff looked after us all brilliantly and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever had more delicious scones and other home baked goodies in such decadent but convivial surroundings.

 
I also managed to squeeze in a lovely Aromatherapy Associates Nurturing Rose Cocoon treatment at the Dorchester Spa last week which it was so worth the trip into town for. The spa, which was only revamped  a couple of years ago, is pristine and gorgeously glam with lovely deco touches – especially in the Relaxation Room – and Jessica, my French therapist knew just when to chat about my imminent arrival (while she gently scrubbed my skin with body polish) and when not to (while she slathered me in a combination of creams and oils and gave me a soothing face and head massage).

 
So, now I’m baby-showered and buffed for the big day, I should probably sign off until after the little bundle arrives. It’s been fun keeping a pre-baby diary – I just hope it’s as much fun, and a welcome return to my keyboard, writing an account of her first few weeks.

I guess I’m not the first mama-to-be to say this but I can’t quite believe that I only have six and a half weeks til D-Day – or should that be B-Day?

 
As I work from home and have had a comfortable pregnancy so far I’m planning on continuing writing for as long as I can, but I’m also realising the importance of ‘letting go’ so am gradually trying to achieve a balance between work, taking it easy and doing the things I won’t be able to do quite so easily in the coming months.

Everyone has advised us to go to the cinema and eat out as much as possible, and I’m thinking it’s probably also a good time to get some quality reading done as well as a bit of quiet time listening to music and savouring the peace and lack of serious responsibility.

 
But back to all things infant-related. The baby’s room and wardrobe (if you please) are gradually taking shape, particularly after a visit to one of my best friend’s who has four kids. I am now so well kitted out with babygros and the like that I’ll hardly need to buy anything for the little one’s first couple of months. My parents-in-law also surprised us with a Newborn Moses Basket Gift Set from this very site – so cute and cosy-looking I’m intending to squeeze the little sprout into it for as long as possible.

 
We’ve also invested in a gorgeous chair from Andrew Martin, which as well as being perfect for feeding should also be an ideal place to read, both for us and for the little one’s first forays into The Hungry Caterpillar, Roald Dahl and beyond.

I am now 30 weeks and starting to feel it. I’ve realised that it’s just not possible to glide through my usual day of dog-walking, meetings in town, supermarket shopping and all the bits in between with quite the usual aplomb. After a full-on bout of Braxton Hicks contractions (the little practice ones that are supposed to be harmless but don’t feel it when you’re getting them every five minutes) a couple of weeks ago I’ve started tailoring my lifestyle to fit around my burgeoning bump a bit more.

I have also started to take my body, and its ever-changing shape, a bit more seriously and have already bought a rather gorgeous Amoralia Nursing Bra – which I have to admit my husband and I stood staring at in some disbelief when I unwrapped it in the kitchen.

It was with even more trepidation that we went to choose a buggy. Every mama and mama-to-be will know that getting the right wheels for you, especially first time, feels just as critical – if not more so – than buying a car. We settled on (or so we thought) a Baby Jogger City Elite; lightweight, easy to collapse and a good size for the boot of our Golf. Then we got home and decided we actually preferred the Mountain Buggy Swift for it’s sturdier, more stylish design and slick lines – aesthetes, us?

But it was our first antenatal class that really put us both to the test. Just sitting in a roomful of strangers knowing that it was only a matter of time before we were asked to ‘turn to the couple on our right’ and talk about or demonstrate something vaguely embarrassing was enough to make us nervous, and when the midwife started swinging a pretend placenta around I thought Nico was going to pass out. Hey-ho, can’t wait til the real thing…!

I’ve decided that there’s no better time to embrace the mini break than while I’m pregnant for the following reasons: a/ I’m not really in the mood to pack a huge case, spend a day getting to and from the airport and an any length of time sitting on a plane, b/ with all the building work going on we forgot to think ahead and get organised in the holiday department, anyway, and c/ because I’m worth it.

 
So two weeks ago we took ourselves off for our last indulgent weekend away as a ‘free couple’. I’d heard all sorts of good things about Lime Wood in the New Forest and discovered they’d just opened a smaller more laidback hotel The Pig – both dog-friendly. Happily, we loved both: the luxury and elegance of the former and its amazing Herb House Spa and the more home grown, rustic charms of the latter. Boogs, our dog, particularly loved The Pig as our waitress gave us a juicy-looking, vacuum-packed bone to take back to our room for him at the end of our own delicious dinner. That’s what I call a bespoke doggy bag.

Back in London my mind has started to drift increasingly towards the ‘big day’. I’ve been told I should take my own towels to hospital, a couple of extra pillows, a car seat and an outfit to take the baby home in plus those squeezy, sports-type bottles of water and a few healthy snacks. But I should probably fess up, at this point, to another list I’ve started of slightly less essential but, in my mind, no less important items. An iPad to keep me entertained and distracted between contractions (don’t have one yet so am keeping my fingers crossed for an early birthday present), Jurlique Baby’s Soothing Barrier Cream – forget baby this is my new lavender-scented super balm, and a new fine cashmere shawl from my jeweller friend William Welstead who finds the finest on his trips to India. I’m allowed the odd luxury, surel

I think I’ve started to waddle. Not dramatically, but had been feeling ever so slightly smug about being an OVPF (only visibly pregnant from the front) and I’m just starting to wonder how much longer that will last.

 
It’s getting increasingly harder to lace up my Converse and I find myself letting out ungainly grunts and sighs when unloading the washing machine or even trying to find something in our little couple-sized fridge. Which, by the way, has to go. Forget how we’ll furnish the baby’s room and which buggy we’ll finally decide on; I’ve got my sights set on a proper, family size, 1950’s style fridge that I can easily survey the interior of while gracefully balancing child on hip.

I will, of course, be supple, limber and uber-toned by that time as I can proudly say I have made a start with the pregnancy yoga. There was, I admit, quite a lot of lying down involved in the class I attended so I’m planning on giving TriYoga a go to see if it’s a bit more gently hardcore.

I am also getting close enough to the big event to give it a bit more thought (or feel that I should) so am finding natural childbirth guru Caroline Flint’s Birthwise DVD indispensible.

The thing I’m most excited about, though, is that I’ve decided to have a doula (I didn’t even know what the word meant 6 months ago) possibly at the actual birth and certainly afterwards, and think I’ve found the perfect person. Of course, middle class guilt is kicking in and my mother raised a ‘whatever next’ eyebrow when I told her, but having all that soothing expert advice and support, and maybe even a shoulder to cry on from time to time, feels like the biggest comfort already, even if I’m not racked with nerves – yet!

It’s funny how things suddenly hit you. I’ve been lucky enough to feel pretty normal throughout my pregnancy so far; blase, even. But now I’ve reached six months (it still beats me how they work that out) I’ve just started to feel a bit overwhelmed.

The baby’s room is, at least, redecorated but the only thing in it are a few tatty but much-loved childhood books of mine and my husband’s. I keep meaning to go to Battersea Yoga pregnancy classes, which are supposed to be amazing and another good way for me to meet other mums-to-be, but haven’t managed it yet. And I keep forgetting to do my pelvic floor exercises – who really does them as often as they say you should? Maybe someone should think about doing a DVD; that would be interesting.

The best I’ve managed is to start reading up on the scary bits about preparing for, and getting through, labour and welcoming your newborn home in the small pile of books I’ve been given by friends. I find Christine Hill’s Pregnancy Guide really clear and relaxed, as if you’re having a chat with a non-hysterical friend, but the one that really makes me giggle is the Rough Guide to Pregnancy & Birth, which is witty and totally un-chi-chi. Oh, and I did go for an acupuncture session to ‘balance my hormones’ but so far I can’t say I feel any different.

Although I haven’t been feeling over-emotional – some women, apparently, find themselves blubbing at someone being fired on The Apprentice – I’m enjoying the company of my female friends more than ever; the single ones who are still living the high life just as much as the experienced ones with kids. And I definitely feel the need to enjoy this ‘calm before the storm’ with my husband so I’m hugely looking forward to visiting Lime Wood in the New Forest in a couple of weeks. But for now I’d better get on with some more of those pelvic floor exercises. What fun.

I’ve blogged a lot here so far about eating and being pampered (two of my favourite pastimes), but not very much about the actual ‘being pregnant’ bit. I guess I’ve only just started feeling properly ‘with child’ in the last couple of weeks – I am just over the 5 month mark – and having my second scan last week really brought it home.

Although I’ve opted to have my baby with the NHS I decided to go to the Fetal Medicine Centre for my scans and I’m so glad I did; if just for the lovely bedside manner of the doctors and the laidback charms of Professor Kypros Nicolaides, the founder of the clinic and a leading authority on foetal health. On our last trip, along with the delight of seeing our baby, I thoroughly appreciated the Professor’s wise words about the risks I’d read of sleeping on your back – “absolute rubbish” – and even wiser advice that we should both “have a glass of wine and relax”. I slept more soundly than I have for the last few weeks that night, and didn’t even need the wine as an aid.

On the fashion front, I still haven’t bought any actual maternity wear – I’m still clinging to leggings, my regular jeans unbuttoned and long tops – although I don’t think it will be long before I have to face up to reality. I couldn’t resist nabbing a pair of super-cute chocolate sheepskin booties for a friend’s newborn the other day, though, and was almost tempted to get some for the bump. Then I remembered the fact that my own feet will be increasing in size (if temporarily) over the coming months so that should probably be addressed first. Age before beauty, I say.

Last week, at the tail end of the building work (which is now finally finished, hurray!), I was feeling very much in need of a mini-break so leapt at the chance of dinner and a sleepover at the swish new Corinthia hotel in Whitehall. We dined on the most delicious seafood, under perfect lighting, at luxe brasserie and oyster bar Massimo’s and then Mr P gave me a goodnight kiss and went home to look after the dog while I retired to my fabulously spacious, dust and rubble-free room. I spent the next morning pottering around the enormous, sparkling, marbley bathroom then settled down to breakfast and the papers in the Northall restaurant. Such a treat. The funniest thing though was that, as I relaxed and enjoyed the luxury of just having so much space, my bump decided it was time to come out of hiding, so I went home looking about two months more pregnant than I had when I checked in.

 
The other indulgence I can thoroughly recommend at 19 weeks is a facial at a little gem of a salon called the White Room in Walton Street, Knightsbridge. Using the most gorgeous organic Cle des Champs products, the supernaturally gifted Ingrid (I still can’t believe she’s only 21) smoothed and soothed every crease, crinkle and sandpapery patch away and gave me expert advice on beauty do’s and don’ts.

And, finally, a very long overdue lunch at Aubaine in Heddon Street with one of my dearest friends, who imparted all her worldly wisdom with regards to bumps, babies and beyond to me, was just what I needed to have me looking forward to my second scan next week, and everything else to come.

As well as writing mainly about style and culture I also scribble about food and restaurants from time to time. So, yes, I suppose you could label me a foodie, although it always seems like such a ridiculous term – how many people do you know who don’t like food?

 
Being pregnant has, of course, done little to slow me down in the eating department. My cravings have mainly been allabout anything spicy – Singapore noodles, Thai curries, Vietnamese everything. But weirdly, as I trawled around Waitrose the other day, I noticed a trend going on in my shopping basket. From carrots and smoked salmon to mango yogurt and butternut squash soup, everything was orange. This cannot just be a coincidence, surely.

 
Anyway, I have been rather relieved that virtually all my gourmet leanings have been towards the savoury until last weekend I needed chocolate cake. Only problem was, it was after 5pm on a Sunday and all the supermarkets were closed, so, as my husband dutifully drove us around in search of something sweet and fudgy I became more and more panicky (sad, I know, but beyond my control). Finally he spotted a Gail’s bakery that was open, leapt in and returned with the most amazing chocolate loaf cake I have ever tasted – and a couple of brownies, just in case. He’s catching on.

Having never been particularly broody I met my husband in a crowded Soho nightclub (yes, really) about 6 years ago, and not long after that we pretty much knew we wanted the whole nine yards.

 
We had a beautiful wedding just outside Rome two and a half years ago, and then this year, just before a trip to Switzerland in March, we discovered I was pregnant. Luckily we had already booked the builders in to convert our loft and give us some much-needed space so we added the redecoration of an extra room (the future nursery) to their to-do list. Only then did we focus on getting our heads around the whole thing of actually having a baby.

 
We are one of those rather selfish couples who really like their space and quiet time together, to the point of not even being very good at socialising these days. A baby would change everything. Although we liked to think we’d had some experience having owned (and totally spoilt) a handsome bull terrier-cross called Boogs for the last four years. How different could it be looking after a baby?

So, at just over 16 weeks in, with my first scan and two doctors appointments out of the way (all fine, hallelujah) I have to say things have been better than I expected so far. I’ve had zero nausea and don’t feel I’ve been hit over the head with a sledgehammer in terms of tiredness, although I have just started getting lower backache that comes and stabs me in the night and is, no doubt, just the beginning of the unfamiliar aches and pains to come.

 
My main job as a style editor means that I’ve had some pretty nice treats, too; from a La Prairie mani and pedi at the Lanesborough to a blissful pregnancy massage at the Ushvani spa in Chelsea. Last weekend I allowed myself a quick online trawl to start looking at buggies, cots and all manner of newborn paraphernalia – both overwhelming and exciting.

 
The only real bummer is that, after two months, we’re still sleeping on the floor of the living room waiting for the building work to finish – not the most comfortable location even when not pregnant. And I’m more than a little bit fed up with living out of a suitcase with only three changes of clothes to my name so it’s high time I did a bit of shopping for a few stylish yet comfy basics I’m starting to need as my bump, though still small, becomes a reality.