It involves getting up at 5.30am three mornings a week and being screamed at for over an hour. We start off with a 2km run then alternate between sprints, squats, sit ups and various other forms of torture. There are no breaks and any sign of slowing down results in the whole group being punished with 20 (unmodified) push ups.

Everyday at least 50 people type pregnancy related search words into Google and wind up on my site. I’m not sure how or why it happens, but I think it’s only fair to tell those people what motherhood turned out like, for me.

I’d spent my late twenties watching in fear as I saw all of my smart, strong, maternal friends really struggle through the first 6 months. I’d also seen other less smart, badly organised women in my life crumble for all the world to see. Not wanting to be part of the latter group I had prepared for, and expected, the worst. So you can imagine my surprise when our baby turned out to be the most delightful girl in the world.

I have put off this post for weeks, not wanting to jinx things. So I’m hoping, even though it’s early days, that it’s safe to tell you that I’m finding motherhood the most mind blowing, amazing, rewarding experience of my life and it’s a lot easier than I thought it would be (so far). Since AJ was born 5 months ago I’ve had just one night where she was awake between 12 and 4am. To make my fellow mothers hate me even more at 6 weeks she was sleeping through ‘til 7am and I was getting a solid 7-8 hours sleep a night. Incredibly enough Jarno hasn’t lost a SINGLE nights sleep in the whole 5 months, how insane is that!? She’s never been sick, cries for less that 10 minutes a day (generally when I’m fumbling around unprepared to feed her) and she spends the rest of her wakeful hours chuckling like a mad baby and gazing adoringly at us with her beautiful big baby blues.

OK, you can gag now.

I would too upon reading such a brag. In our defence, it’s probably 99% her character and 1% us not totally screwing it up. I was never one of those obnoxious, arrogant women saying what great parents Jarno and I would be. To the contrary, we were scared stupid and I still worry about massive gap between who I am and the role model I want to become.

I do have to recommend the book “How to enjoy year 1″. We would have been lost without it and followed it quite religiously. It’s a bit old school with structure and routine but I was never going to be that mother-earthy-let-it-all-run-wild-type so it suited me perfectly.

I hope I don’t have to eat my words in coming months. I just wanted to let all those pregnant women know, it’s not as hard as you may fear it will be.  Once you get through the nightmare of pregnancy, you are in for happiness you’d never imagined possible.

Gag again.

Good luck!

I’d love to use Annabel as an excuse yet it’s unlikely given the average woman puts on a mere 11-16kgs.  On a positive note I did fulfill my childhood dream of submitting an achievement to the Guiness Book of World Records.  Scoffing down mars bars was a lot easier than my first attempt at a GBWR twenty years ago.  I used to bounce up and down on the trampoline in the backyard for hours until the noise drove my parents insane and they dragged me off.  Come to think of it I may have been lured off the trampoline with a mars bar.  It seems that 65 gram bar of chocolate caramel heaven is a central theme in my life.  I have several methods of eating them if you are interested.

Anyway….! The last three months have been a real eye opener.  Not only have I given up chocolate, pasta and potatoes but it’s also been my first experience walking round town as a genuine fatty.  I’m not talking about being a sultry, curvaceous, renaissance type.  I looked utterly massive and put on weight in places I never thought possible, I even had fat fingers.  

When I ventured out I was afraid people would stop and stare at me, so I was surprised to realise that when you are that fat you become invisible.   Doors aren’t held open, there are no second glances or friendly smiles and certainly no drinks offered.  It’s a lonely existence and a very shallow part of me missed the humble amount of attention I was accustomed to.   How pathetic is that?

Nevertheless, I’m happy to report I’m winning the battle of the bulge.  This month I got both my wedding rings and jeans back on.  There are still a few kilos to go but I’m no longer a “before” shot for a Weight Watchers commercial.  In fact while I was shopping at the market on the weekend a 65 year old Italian man greeted me with,

“Ciao Bella!”

Outwardly I rolled my eyes and handed over the corn.  Inwardly I flicked my hair, smiled and vowed never to enter fatland again.