In February, the doctor said that Ma was now safe from any risk of a miscarriage, but she was still advised rest. Ma’s face kept getting blotchy every now and then, and she looked tired because she couldn’t sleep properly at nights. Stupid baby, I glowered at her stomach when she wasn’t looking.

Ma’s physical changes were quite acute. Her face suddenly became covered in zits and I couldn’t understand why. ‘It’s the hormones,’ she told me when I asked her.

And then her feet started swelling up!

My god. The number of changes that her body was going through! I couldn’t take it all in at times.

One day, I was going to my room when I saw her sobbing in the living room. I rushed to her.

‘What is it? Is something wrong?’ I asked anxiously, sitting down next to her as she blew her nose into a hanky.

‘Nothing.’ Her voice quivered.

‘Are you in pain?’ I asked, not sure what I should do. I pulled out my phone, ready to call Papa when she shook her head.

‘I was reading this book,’ she said, handing me the paperback that she had been reading. ‘It’s just so sad.’

I looked at the book. It was Confessions of a Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella.

I stroked her back and held her close. ‘Shh. It’s all right,’ I assured her. She sniffled. I wondered how I had become her mom.

‘Is it the hormones?’ I repeated her oft-used refrain. She sniffled and nodded.

‘What will make you feel better?’ I asked her.

She shrugged.

‘Should I make you some soup?’

She flinched. ‘I’d rather die than eat broccoli soup,’ she said.

‘Ma! Don’t say such things!’ I said alarmed.

‘Chocolate chip cookies?’ I asked her. I could get some for her from the neighbourhood supermarket.

She brightened up. ‘Yes, but I want them with a blob of peanut butter inside and I want a blob of Nutella on the top. And sprinkle some sea salt on top.’

‘Huh?’ I looked at her, horrified. ‘I was going to buy you some . . .’

She shook her head. ‘No! I don’t want store-bought cookies.’

I took a deep breath and gritted my teeth. ‘You know I don’t bake anymore.’

‘Yes, but your baby brother wants some.’

I stared at her. Was she serious?

‘Brother? How do you know it’s a boy?’

She shrugged. ‘I just know it. When I was pregnant with you, everything was different. My skin glowed, my hair was so thick and beautiful. Look at me now.’

‘Maybe it’s because you’re old now?’ I said without thinking.

Ma looked at me and burst into tears again.

‘Fine! Fine! I’ll go bake some cookies!’ I got up in a hurry.