But you know you can't.
Which makes you want to say it more.
Well that's what the last three months have been like.
Keeping schtum when really I wanted to just blurt out like a post-curry burp, 'I'M PREGNANT!'
Right. I've said it. It's out there. It's definitely happening.
I've always wanted a brother or sister for Nancy.
I don't know how I would have survived the long camping trips in France looking at ANOTHER glacier with my geographer parents if it wasn't for my sister. I speak to her everyday, and although she drove me nuts at times when we were little, she's now one of my bestest friends.
I want that for Nancy.
The thing is, I've totally forgotten what it's like to have a tiny baby.
I know what a two year old does. I just about know how to do that.
But a baby?
It's like my brain's systematically filtered out everything pre 24 months.
I can't remember how often I used to feed Nancy. When she started rolling. I don't know how old she was when she could sit up. When her first tooth came through. I literally can't remember any of the key moments.
I thought second time round would be easy. Well. Not easy exactly, but less surprises.
Turns out that might not be the case.
Turns out I might to have to read back my own bloody blog to find out what I did!
I can't quite believe it.
Well, I can.
The fact that everything has smelt absolutely grim for the last 12 weeks and I haven't been able to eat anything other than beige bland food.
But it's the practicality that in six months time we'll have a teeny, mewing little person, who's little fingers furl and unfurl. Who will sleep on my chest like a mini hot water bottle with frog-like legs curled tight up to it's chest.
I haven't even begun to think about how you survive with two children.
I know it can be done.
But how does it work on a day-to-day basis?
How do you do it and get everyone dressed? How do you practically leave the house? How do you entertain a two year old when you've got to feed a newborn?
I've got so used to sleeping again that I can't really remember what it's like to feel like you're going totally mental from sleep deprivation. For your body to not feel like your own. For your boobs to swing between looking like Jordan's tits to old socks on a feed-by-feed basis.
I guess we'll work it out as we go along.
Or better still, Ulrika is also having a baby in 7 weeks, so my master plan is to see how they do it and work it out from there...