that one day in september

Yesterday happened to be the re-match of the AFL Grand Final, but that's not what I'm blogging about. While the Grand Final is synonymous with the phrase "...that one day in September", for me it was different. Yesterday also coincided with what happened a month ago, on a day in September. 3rd September, to be more precise.

The start of September usually heralds a few things - the start of spring, goodbye to coldness (although you wouldn't have known much difference in the weeks that followed) and my beloved late Nanna's birthday. This particular year, it was also the day I found out I was expecting our second child. It's something I'm still grappling with, not so much the shock, but the realisation settling in. This pregnancy was planned, or rather, in the words of my husband, "We should get onto that", as if it was yet another task that had to be done, like mowing the lawns.

A test was conducted, me musing, "hmm, what if" and there it was, 2 pink lines on a stick. I said a quiet "Happy Birthday Nanna" to myself, knowing she'd be tickled pink to know - or perhaps she already did on same other level. I kept the stick, showed my husband and we kept quiet for a good month. It felt good to have a nice little secret all to ourselves, but when we started telling people (at 10 weeks), the excitement and happiness was infectious which made it seem all the more real.

In the meanwhile, it's business as usual with the daily grind. I'm not stopping myself going to the gym, I'm determined to not blow out of proportion, though I'm a bit dismayed to see the middle "tyre" returning. I'm thankful now that I'll be moderately "with child" during the summer period, instead of heavily pregnant, it ought to make the summer a bit more bearable. That, and maxi dresses.

So happy birthday Nanna, you're not here to share this news with us but it made your birthday a little more special, even if I was the only to know it.