I don’t know what on earth she is doing in there, but whatever it is it feels… odd. Like I can’t breathe, and I’m about to wee myself at the same time. Apparently she weighs about 1.5lb now.
Whatever she weighs and however big she is, I’m 24 weeks now, which is the magic number in terms of viability in the UK. Some hospitals don’t routinely attempt to resuscitate 23-week babies, but at 24 weeks, if the unthinkable were to happen, it would count as a birth rather than a miscarriage.
I made it to 24 weeks. I can’t quite believe it. This means that I could have anywhere between 12+6 and 17+6 weeks to go, and 14+2 until the point I got to last time. It doesn’t sound like long, but from here it seems like an eternity.