To her utter dismay Judy discovers she is pregnant. She knows it’s the end of everything, sex, sleep, going out, and generally having a life. The father was a one night Bacardi induced mistake who’s now long gone, thank goodness.
She struggles with prenatal check-up’s and scans and copes with her first craving and leaky boobs, not to mention her ever increasing waistline, and say’s goodbye to size 10 dresses and pretty underwear, although who’s going to be seeing her in her underwear ever again pretty or not she has no idea, and resigns herself to ‘fat clothes’. All Judy wants is to not be pregnant and to be able to get on with her self-imposed never having another relationship life. ‘I mean who needs some bloke telling you how to do everything, or anything, while they consistently bollocks things up.’
Then to add to her quandary, on a last fling night out before the bump gets too noticeably big, she meets the gorgeous Rob who could have been her ‘The One’ if only she wasn’t pregnant.
She struggles with prenatal check-up’s and scans and copes with her first craving and leaky boobs, not to mention her ever increasing waistline, and say’s goodbye to size 10 dresses and pretty underwear, although who’s going to be seeing her in her underwear ever again pretty or not she has no idea, and resigns herself to ‘fat clothes’. All Judy wants is to not be pregnant and to be able to get on with her self-imposed never having another relationship life. ‘I mean who needs some bloke telling you how to do everything, or anything, while they consistently bollocks things up.’
Then to add to her quandary, on a last fling night out before the bump gets too noticeably big, she meets the gorgeous Rob who could have been her ‘The One’ if only she wasn’t pregnant.
