I speak with my eyes closed and hands pressed on my taut and painful stomach. I’ve been having Braxton Hicks contractions all morning and I’m starting to think this baby wants out sooner rather than later. I’ve also been experiencing an alarming sensation like someone is scratching at my cervix with a fingernail. The midwife assures me this is normal, but bloody hell, it’s not the nicest pregnancy experience to date.

“So, two weeks till D-Day. Anything you want to do before you’re burdened with the responsibility of a child for the rest of your life?” Lily jabs me lightly on the leg.

“I can always count on you to help me feel happy and prepared for what lies ahead, Lils,” I say, grinning.

The oven timer starts to beep and Lily leaps to her feet. “Don’t move.”

I listen to her bang and crash around the kitchen for a few minutes before I open my eyes, lift my head, then slowly and inelegantly stagger to my feet. There are a few weeds poking their cheeky green leaves out of the soil beneath the hydrangeas, but there’s no way I can crouch to remove them. Not if I want to make it back up to standing again.

“I feel like a stranded whale,” I call, heading towards the kitchen. “And I’m putting on about a kilo a day.”

“Ah, the joys of pregnancy,” calls Lily.

When I get to the kitchen, she pulls out a chair and demands I sit. Then she places a plate containing a large wedge of pie and a token salad consisting of about three lettuce leaves and a couple of cucumber slices before me.

“Voila!” she says, flinging out her arm. “Your gourmet meal.”

“Thanks, Lil.”

We eat and chat, and for a few fleeting seconds here and there, I manage to forget the fact I’m heavily pregnant. I’ve spent the week getting ready both mentally and physically for the imminent birth of my baby. My hospital bag is packed, the baby seat is beside the front door and I have about ten frozen meals packed into my tiny freezer. A part of me wants the baby to come now and another wants it to stay inside forever.

“Darryl asked me to marry him again,” says Lily matter-of-factly before shoving a mouthful of pie in her mouth.

“Wow! He was brave. What did you say?”

Lily swallows and raises her eyebrows.

“Holy crap,” I say, my knife and fork clattering on the table. “You said yes.”

Lily shakes her head in disgust. “I have no idea what came over me, Trish.”

I push back my chair, stand up and throw my arms around my friend’s head because I can’t really bend down. Her face presses against my stomach.