I woke up with my wife beside me and my son making a racket downstairs, at last life has returned to normal again.

I no longer have to wear this blasted pregnancy suit. I never want to see it again quite frankly. It has been my ball and chain whilst my family were away, kept me out of trouble but it has served its purpose in other ways: I have a more thorough understanding and admiration for Mothers and mums to be. particularly my wife Mondrey who I could not love more for giving me my little boy.
Huge respect and love to my own mother who is not only my best friend but a huge inspiration to me.

Happy Mothers Day.

I am over excited to see my wife and son and have had difficulty sleeping. I had set my alarm but constantly woke to check the time.

I am sure that the simulated labour contractions we were given yesterday had plenty to do with my restless night. I felt like I had been turned inside out.
I am tired and emotional and am sapped of all energy. There will be tears when I see my family again.
My wife has no idea quite how mad this month has been. Of course I have spoken with her during the ordeal but when she sees me in person with this ridiculous suit on I guess my she may consider my whinging justified.
One more day to go though and I will be rid of the suit, I wonder whether I will be bouncing around like a new born lamb when the massive weight has been removed.

Well we reached the target ‘likes’ on Facebook and it looks like we are going to be experiencing simulated labour contractions. I was not the finale before Mother’s Day that I expected nor is it one that I am looking forward to.

I have just checked out a film on YouTube and we must be nuts to agree to this. Jonny seems to be looking forward to this and I blame him for instigating it.

At 9am we will be hooked up to a machine that uses electro stimulations to simulate contractions and experience the pains of childbirth.

As if we haven’t suffered enough over the last month. I think there might be three grown men screaming and crying in our pillows.

I am wondering whether we will be given a heavy dose of Morphine to deal with the pain.

This is going to be one mother of a day…

It is my sons 1st birthday on Monday, I think I am more excited than anyone. I haven’t seen him for a whole month and I miss him terribly.

He and my wife have missed out on this whole fiasco much to their relief. Thinking about it, I am not sure I want my son to remember me as a gender bender anyway.

My great friend Bruce told me that he had left a birthday present for him in the London office and that I should take it back to Barcelona.

I have just picked it up and it is a giant teddy bear, the size of a small truck.

I have difficulty lugging myself across London, now I have two of us to transport.

I am convinced Bruce had pre planned this, knowing fine well that it was going to be a nightmare. Whilst Bruce is one of the kindest men in the world and a fine friend, he is one of the most annoying. I will get my revenge Bruce.

I have been looking forward to this day for some time now. A day being gently massaged and my body being manipulated back into its original shape. I have almost forgotten how I used to appear.

I wake up most mornings feeling like an old man with a clumsy, hobbling gait.

I am pretty sure I look much the same.

I make my way down to the Chiropractic clinic and am greeted by a tall, well presented Belgium man who I am informed used to be a climber. He himself had had a lot of realignment of the vertebrae, apparently he had fallen from a great height and broke apart like Lego. You wouldn’t have known.

I am instructed to lie on the bed and before I knew it I am being pulled and stretched into inconceivable positions.

The gentle massage turned into a grapple with every bone cracking like popcorn.

I left feeling high and disorientated but no doubt better off for it.


We have now been wearing this Pregnancy suit day and night for the best part of a month. It has become a burden, rather like a stubborn boil. I don’t grow attached to boils and I feel the same about this lump. I am sure that I will experience similar relief when it is finally removed.

We went into this whole project somewhat naively, the whole idea was to show some empathy to our wife’s and mothers. The pregnancy suits have certainly been informative in terms of giving us an idea of the discomforts they may have experienced.

The respect and gratitude I now have to my wife, Mondrey, for being so strong during her pregnancy with my son is now unmeasurable. I feel like I had my head in the clouds during the whole process. Excited and giddy about what would be, rather than what was actually going on.

Had Sunday lunch with my great friends, the Millers. in Sitges, a smallish coastal down just south of Barcelona. I was slightly anxious since this was the first time I had been out of Barcelona on my own wearing my pregnancy suit.

Sitges, for those that don’t know, has a substantial gay community and the thought of staggering down the promenade with a swollen belly and swinging breasts made me sweat more profusely than normal.

I need not have worried. No-one battered an eyelid. I was not receiving the horrified glares nor gasps of despair that I have become accustomed to.

Perhaps the community in Sitges judge less and let people be people.

It was reassuring and I felt accepted. I strolled on with confidence to the restaurant.

Once I was in the restaurant the children of my friends asked why I was wearing the suit and said that I looked silly but almost immediately behaved as if I was no different to any one else. Again, there was no judgement what so ever.

What a great day.

Just been on BBC World service radio where we were talking about our experience in pregnancy suits and the motives behind it.

The presenter and two other guests were in London whilst we were in a studio in Barcelona. It is International Women’s Day so that was really the focus of the programme.

One of the female guests thought the sentiment was nice but explained that it hardly represented real pregnancy she said that she had oused liquid from every orifice and suffered terrible morning sickness. I suddenly started to feel morning sickness at the very thought of it.

We have never pretended that we were going to experience the real thing, far from it. Our intention has always been to play our part in understanding ‘ a smidgen’ (as Steve puts it) of pregnancy and some of its trials. This is and always has been about honouring our mothers and wife’s who have had to go through this. We need not have done so but we have and feel slightly better informed and have opened up a debate.

To mothers, all over the world, we give you our respect.

It is my son’s 1st birthday on the 16th March so I have decided to put on a little party for him and in preparation will be heading to the party shop to buy balloons and daft decorations. This means walking down the Ramblas in Barcelona. As many of you will know, this is full of tourists not necessarily rambling but charging so I am preparing myself for battle.

The one reassuring thing is that there will be street artists lining the street and I might be passed off as one of these guys. Might even earn a bit of cash!
It is a beautiful Spring morning and am having difficulty knowing what to wear with my pregnancy suit. Overheating and perspiration is a given so I think I will go minimalistic and sport a pair of shorts. I hope they are ready for this.

Despite the common claim of ‘eating for two’, women need very few extra calories during pregnancy. Mothers-to-be don’t need to change their diet at all for the first six months, and even in the last three they need just 200 extra calories a day, the equivalent of a small sandwich.

I, on the other hand, seem to be eating for many more than two despite not really being pregnant.
Only last night I ordered a curry and managed to polish off a Lamb Rogan Josh, Chicken Tikka Masala, Saag Aloo, Piloa rice and 2 Garlic Naan.
And it would be stupid to think that I am having cravings since wearing this pregnancy suit. It is simply not the case I have always craved a proper curry and usually on a Friday night.

Just for the record, I have not been wanting to eat coal or clay or anything ridiculous like that.