In the 80s there wasn't much on the market except for unflattering pieces, commonly referred to as 'tents'. They disguised the bump and the design tended to have a one-size-fits-all approach, which usually ended up adding 10 years and goodness knows how many pounds on even the slimmest and most youthful mum-to-be.
Why can't it be an individual choice and remain a basic human right - not to be judged or tut-tuted at? For me, personally, being in my forties is the best time for motherhood because I feel mature and settled enough. I don't see the pram by the door as a career obstacle.
Being home with my son was a battle. A battle against the wolf. That wolf lurked and lingered. It undermined me and my choices. I watched it circle the house as it watched me feed the baby. "You don't know what you're doing". "You call yourself a mother." The taunts were piercing. I was shattering a little more each time.
The six-week post-natal check-up as you postpartum 'checkout' is wildly inadequate as, for some, the repercussions of pregnancy can take a while to surface. Pregnancy took 9 months, and it is perfectly reasonable that our bodies can take at least that long, if not a year or more, to fully recover.
Recently some stats were released showing that the number of new mums in their 40s is on the rise, with numbers increasing fourfold in the last 30 years. Surprising to some, but it's certainly a change I've also noticed over recent years.
The press are interested in the baby, a welcome diversion for me and I am happy to talk about it. Few of the questions they ask regarding plans are answerable until the proverbial bridge is crossed... I beat Englishman Tom Richards to reach the third round.
I now get to become that person who, having managed to navigate nine months of pregnancy and eight months of parenthood, now feels entitled to share helpful [patronising] advice [guesswork] to anyone who'll pretend to listen.
Many of us will be unaware that it's Baby Loss Awareness Week. For the vast majority of families and parents in the UK, this will be a week like many others - rushing between work commitments, picking up the kids and dealing with a multitude of other tasks. But this week, do spare a thought for the families that have lost a baby.
As pregnancy progresses, mums-to-be can start to feel less balanced. While they naturally widen their stance to increase lateral stability, to maintain balance in the forward / backward plane of movement (for example, when walking) they tend to increase postural sway still further.
It's hard for me now to imagine juggling two young children with a demanding home-business, but I guess I always had the bigger picture in my mind, which was the huge possibilities that lay ahead if I could get this to work. I looked permanently exhausted, but I didn't mind.
For the past three months I have spent most of my time horizontal on a sofa, feeling truly grim; nausea and lethargy, of the extreme variety, has left me completely drained and somewhat miserable. Want to know why? It is the 'miracle' of pregnancy.
Bounty has come under attack for exploiting the sense that they are on important government business (they distribute child benefit forms). They imply that you need to give them all your personal data in order to get child benefit.
I know what some of you are thinking: the world is overpopulated already, so many unwanted children out there, why don't you "just adopt"?... What about those who've already experienced the miracle of pregnancy and birth - why don't they adopt instead of having, say, a second or third pregnancy?
While the obsession with celeb women losing weight is a more obvious fascination for people (even though it's stupid and reductive), with a comparatively new baby at home, I'm more worried about my tits and overhanging belly.
As much as I'm sure we'd all like to know, ultimately, it's none of our business. When we get down the nitty-gritty, and if we're really honest with ourselves, we're just being nosey... even if we're being well-meaning. Jennifer's a lovely woman, I'm sure she'd make a great mum but... it's also, ultimately, still none of our damn business.
24 hours after a birth fraught with complications, we were told that the medical professionals thought Seb had Down's syndrome. What should have been the happiest day of my life was the worst. For Simon, my husband, it was very different. He accepted the diagnosis from day one and through all my tears and heartbreak he constantly reassured me that we would cope.