So there we were at the end of a journey and the beginning of a lifetime. These past nine months have been the longest, shortest, most confounding emotional roller coaster since... well, probably since the first time round...

Previous marvelling at the human female form has now turned to gasps of bewilderment. I was seeing bits of my body I had never seen before and losing sight of other bits; my nipples were darkening, the bump beginning to feel heavy and the belly button on the turn - inside out.

After the fast living, rock star adrenaline pumped existence of nonstop touring, partying and god knows what else, the Glam Rocker announced it would take a while to settle back into civvy life. To hasten the process, within two hours of his arrival, jet-lagged and plane-weary, I dragged him straight to the antenatal unit for our 20-week scan.

A couple of weeks back the Glam Rocker left Blighty to embark on a tour of the US and I was joining him for a weekend of Sex in the City. I was Carrie as a brunette with a bulging belly as opposed to a bulging Mulberry.

Having had to keep my condition under wraps for so long I'd almost forgotten I was pregnant. Last pregnancy my bump was near invisible at five months, albeit I was 12 years younger and two dress sizes smaller. I came out at my 30th birthday party. 'Guess what?'

Eleven weeks accidentally pregnant and having broken the news to my son I decided it was time to tell my family. A most apt and suitable occasion presented itself on the 69th birthday of my mother, this would be one surprise she would not forget!

The Glam Rocker was keen to attend this scan - previous doubts having abated somewhat... still he needed to see this baby bud for real. In boy speak it was the money shot, i.e. what was the going rate for child support?

At my last hospital visit, the doctor said I would be treated as a first time mother. My body will have forgotten it was ever pregnant before. I begged to differ.