An hour ago I thought this whole bonkers idea would be more embarrassing than physically tough. I imagined life would continue pretty much as normal bar the weird looks and confused questioning by the public. I naively thought I would continue my usual routine of running a couple of times a week and biking or kite-surfing on the weekends. Yes, it would harder, more challenging, but I secretly thought it would be good training – like wearing a loaded rucksack or carrying my five-year old son on my shoulders. For a month. Day and night. In the process I imagined I would gain a deeper understanding and appreciation of what my wife has been through twice and my mother 3 times. No major downside. That was an hour ago, before trying the pregnancy suit on. I’m now having second thoughts. Life will not continue as normal. It may never be the same again. It’s not so much the 15kg of weight but how it’s distributed: right on your bladder and groin. To make matters worse, something moves inside the belly. A weird alien-like lump of solid resin swings like a embryonic pendulum with each move you make. It’s freaky. Wrong. This whole ordeal is definitely not made for a man.