Every so often I am woken by a thud in the bed next to me as M launches himself into the air, spins a neat 180 degrees and lands on his other side, sleeping all the while. Most people roll over, my husband flies.
From the belly shudders and pokes that are growing in intensity every day, I'm guessing that our daughter is already perfecting the art of the mid-air rollover. Earlier this week a work seminar was brightened quite considerably by a small lump bulging out of the bump twice in quick succession. It's getting cosy in there and Baby J is stretching her limbs, making her presence felt even before we see her face or choose her name.
25 weeks gone.