23 weeks and 119 days to go.  If I can manage another 100 days then I will be pleased.
Babycentre has reliably informed me my baby is now the size of a large mango, or 29cm.  Not sure I have ever seen a mango as big as a ruler.
Have you ever seen a 29cm long mango? Me neither
Bump is most definitely becoming more active, with much more pronounced kicks and movements.  With all three of my pregnancies I've woken up and for a split second wondered if I am actually pregnant, and then felt a reassuring kick.  And this time joyfully remember it's progesterone pessary time which at least means another half an hour in bed to defy gravity.
It's hard not to feel paranoid with every twinge and ache.  On Friday evening I decided to whizz round with the hoover and steam mop all the floors and soon felt pretty achy.  This is all probably normal growing and stretching but after last time it's hard not to worry.
Each week is another milestone.  Next week will mean a viable baby, who would be supported by a hospital if she were to be born.  25 weeks will see the point at which Oliver was born.  28 weeks means slightly fewer risks for a preemie as the lungs are developed, and 32 weeks yet another hurdle.  By 36 weeks we're pretty much term. 
I'm aiming for 36 weeks, neither of us relish the thought of seeing yet another NICU/Special Care unit.  This time we'd just really like to take a newborn home and be in that magic bubble at home.
Yet I still feel I have the easier option.  I have the reassurance of a new life growing inside me.  Despite missing Oliver so much, having a growing bump is a welcome distraction.  For Mr J it's not s easy and Christmas is a bittersweet time.  Whilst we are looking forward to a nice family Christmas at home there's one little man who really should have been here.  He should have been here wreaking havoc, bashing the tree and throwing the decorations across the room and no doubt laughing his very cheeky laugh when he was told not to.

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