Fuck I'm having another baby so I'm losing it a little

I woke up this morning hyperventilating. There just wasn't enough air in the world for me to keep functioning. Marie was in the next room moaning and crying and singing and whining - doing everything except use proper words to call me in. Now I am very strict on this. She has been able to call us properly for over a year, and I will not respond to random moans. She knows this very well, but was determined to win the argument. Babes had decided to have a long lie. How it is possible for a man to sleep through the kind of racket a disgruntled toddler can make is a mystery to me, but apparently he can. This was not helping the breathing.

Eventually Marie gave in (with a perfectly happy "Mama, daddy, I'm awake!") and came to lie in our bed (oh joy) and by this time I felt green. I'm with Kermit on this one - it's not easy being green. Interestingly, as soon as both Babes and Marie left the room to go to the bathroom, I stopped hyperventilating (briefly). I thought the pregnancy was to blame - you know, my lungs getting less space - but it's not the physical part of the pregnancy. It's the psychological part. It's knowing that I'm on my own for most of the week looking after these little children and soon there will be another one. If we hadn't decided to get pregnant, I would now be looking for a part-time teaching job for September, when Marie goes to school. Having this baby (which I want with all my love and all my heart) means another three years at home, another three years of this huge responsibility 24 hours a day, another three years of adult conversation only on the internet and at the school gates. That's what's making me hyperventilate. That's what's got my knickers in a twist this week.

Then I remembered we were going to a big family do today and I still had to get dressed in something that could pass for a party dress. Queue more funky breathing. I don't know why, but I felt like overnight 95% of me had transmogrified into just bum and thigh. I am a huge chicken drumstick. And I swear I could smell fear on my body. (I know 95% of me can't be bum and thigh because this stomach is seriously taking over my figure.)

Getting the children into their party clothes took forever. Then in the car, I felt like all the air was slowly being sucked out of the air and I was suffocating. When we got to the party, I didn't dare speak to anyone. The self-hatred was dripping off me. Which of course scared people off. Self-loathing silence can only entertain for so long. What made it worse was that I couldn't just get plastered. Seriously - how is anyone meant to go through a family do without alcohol? That's what alcohol was invented for. I just had to stand around watching everyone else get pleasantly tipsy.

And then, magically, I started to breathe again. Just being around some of my family felt comfortable and right. The children were being watched collectively - they weren't just my responsibility. There were people there who seemed genuinely pleased to see me. Some of the people there were my most favourite people in the world. We sat together to eat.

I spent some time talking to one of my uncles. He showed a great passion for his work. It warmed me to hear someone talk with so much love and enthusiasm about what he does for a living. I then talked for ages with one of my favourite cousins. I have a secret crush on her - she's just fabulous and lovely and clever and beautiful. And I dared to talk to her and have a real conversation instead of being scared to make a fool out of myself.

Now I'm so glad I went tonight. Family can be scary, but they're also constant and they don't need to be courted so they'll be your friend. Anyway - I'm sure I'll hyperventilate some more in the next few months. I'm trying the meditation and breathing exercises, but there's only so much you can do against the rising panic caused by being pregnant for the third time. Honestly - it's just ludicrous to want one child, let alone two or three. The constant worry, the endless nappies, the eternal testing and bickering and snotty noses. They will drive you absolutely nuts. Well, me anyway. But then I should remember today. All the children playing together and being overjoyed to see each other. All the adults coming together to celebrate the family and the ties between us all. That's what we're creating. That's what I should remember. And also the fact that come February I can crack open a bottle of Chardonnay and get completely pissed.