Life’s a gas!

My trapped wind was an unexpected baby!

Shovelling a mouthful of crunchy veg into my mouth, I heard a noise. Gurgle, gurgle…

It was my stomach rumbling. Again!

‘Ooh, excuse me,’ I mumbled to my friend, embarrassed, as we sat having lunch.

It was constantly rumbling these days – the price I had to pay for losing weight on the Ketopia diet, which involves eating lots of vegetables and some lean meats.

I’d started on it last October, and hoped to lose 3st.

I’d had four children – Denny, now 11, Nicolas, 9, Dorian, 7, and Jayne, 4.

And, at 5ft 5in and a size-16 to 18, I was much bigger than I wanted to be.

By January this year, I was starting to see results. I’d lost a stone, and my face, arms, legs and bottom were all noticeably slimmer.

My tummy, however, was still protruding.

Oh well, I thought, everyone has a stubborn spot.

I figured a few more weeks of the diet would shift it.

But it didn’t. So I made sure I incorporated exercise into my weight-loss regime, too.

I was hitting the gym three times a week, lifting weights to tone up. Yet I still had a paunch around my middle.

If anything, it was getting bigger…and more gassy! ‘But I’m doing everything right! It doesn’t make sense,’ I moaned to my husband Denny, 35.

‘You look gorgeous,’ he reassured me.

If only I felt it!

Going out, instead of feeling sexy, I felt frumpy. I tried control-top pants, even considered a corset. But nothing worked. Fed up, I’d moan about it to anyone who’d listen. Then, in February, I confided in my friend Rachel about the unfortunate side-effects of my diet.

‘I’m constantly gassy and my stomach is huge!’ I sighed. ‘I almost feel like something is moving around in there.’

‘Maybe you should take a pregnancy test?’ Rachel suggested, a serious look spreading across her face.

‘Don’t be daft!’ I laughed, dismissing her.

Admittedly, I hadn’t had a period recently. But they’d never returned after I’d had Jayne four years earlier.

I’d just got used to not having them, even though doctors were baffled as I was still young.

But, to put Rachel’s mind at rest more than anything, I hunted out a pregnancy test in the back of my cupboard.

Waiting for the result, I felt my mind drifting towards how I could improve my weight loss.

But, snapping back to reality, I saw two lines appearing, slowly but surely, in the little window of the stick in my hand.

I couldn’t be…

But I was! That fluttery feeling in my tummy was a baby!

I must be at least 20 weeks,

I realised, knowing you don’t feel babies move much before.

Then panic and disbelief consumed me.

‘I’m pregnant,’ I stammered down the phone to Denny.

‘Very funny!’ he laughed,

Then I saw two lines appearing in the little window…

assuming it was a joke.

But, when I didn’t start laughing, the reality dawned on him, too.

In typical Denny style, he was totally calm.

‘How can I be pregnant again? We have four kids and a three-bedroom house!’ I cried.

‘We’ll work it out. Everything will be OK,’ Denny reassured.

Two days later, an ultrasound scan confirmed that I was 27 weeks pregnant.

I didn’t have long to prepare for a new arrival!

Luckily, I hadn’t been drinking or smoking, just eating veg and lifting weights.

‘It looks like you’re having a healthy baby boy!’ the sonographer revealed at my next checkup. Relief!

Our families were shocked, but excited, too.

And friends rallied round to make sure we had everything we needed in time for my due date of 30 May.

Finally, I began to relax and look forward to meeting my son.

But, a month later, I was taking my daughter to nursery when I had a feeling of pressure in my tummy.

Panicking, I called the hospital, but they told me not to worry, as I was still only 31 weeks gone.

So, trying to put it out of my mind, I carried on with my errands.

But the feeling just got more and more intense.

It’s too soon... I still have nine weeks to go!

Even when my contractions started, I tried to carry on with my day.

But, when they were every three minutes, there was no mistaking I’d gone into labour.

Quickly, I rang a friend to look after the kids, then Denny and I rushed to the hospital.

By the time I got to a delivery suite, I was 9cm dilated.

My baby was coming any minute now!

Denny was by my side as I gave birth to our little baby boy, nine weeks early. He weighed just 2lb 7oz. Straight after he was born, he was whizzed into the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.

Placed on oxygen and in an incubator, he looked so tiny and helpless.

‘He’s going to be OK,’ Denny reassured me as I looked at our surprise son Andres.

And Denny was right – our little fighter is doing great.

I still can’t believe my bloated belly wasn’t just gas, but a baby!

Now, run off my feet, it’ll be a while before I think about dieting again.

But Andres is a far better reward than any amount of weight loss!

Denny was by my side as I gave birth nine weeks early