Everyone is having their babies and I'm still sitting here with her tucked up inside. Part of me wants to have her out out out so I can just get on with doing all the things associated with actually having the baby out in the world. Feeding, changing, cuddling, all that business. However, I know I shouldn't be wishing the pregnancy away, as I've been saying for months and months. I want her out but I want her in, what if this is the only time I have with her and I've spend all of it impatient for the end?

I'm so afraid for the future, for her being here and my anxieties and paranoia, I'm afraid that something will go wrong and I'll be shoved back into that same lonely grief. I'm watching others having theirs, their rainbow babies, and it does keep me optimistic, somewhat. But then it brings me back to that same thought that happiness is not for me, it's something reserves solely for other people and it's something that I will never get to touch, and hold, and keep.

So there are two parts of me, two thought processes. One, I try to be, and stay, and make myself optimistic, and so I think that I want her out, and I want to hold her, and do all those things, and be the actual mother rather than being pregnant. And I know that I am a mother already, I am Ezra's mother and I am her mother, too. Neither of them need to be in my arms for me to be their mother, so there comes the other part of me that realises I need to chill the fuck out. I had so little time with my son that I feel like, now, in hindsight, I didn't enjoy the pregnancy enough.

Of course I wished it away just as anybody else does, but I feel didn't allow myself to experience it properly. I didn't let myself enjoy it. I didn't take enough photos, I didn't take enough videos of my bump moving about, so much so that I'm not even sure it did that much. There are so many things that I wish I had done that I didn't do, and so I keep thinking enjoy it, Farrah!!! I should be enjoying this pregnancy as much as I can!

I want to enjoy it as much as I can and I need to remind myself, actively remind myself, to calm down. While she is inside there, and while I can feel her moving around, she is mostly safe.

I suppose my worry comes from the fact that while she's in there I can't save her, if something happens, I can't help it. This very much goes back to the idea of my body having betrayed me once before, and the fact that I know that bodies do betray. While she's inside me, I can't do CPR. I have to rely on my body to do what it is supposed to do and keep her safe. I have to rely on my own mind to somehow recognise when there is a problem and get to the hospital – I have to hope that gut feeling kicks in, but I'm just not convinced by it. I worry that something happens at night, I'm sleeping, and I wait until midday for movements, try things myself at home, and she's been gone since the night before. What can I do about that?

So, because of that, I've decided to book myself in for induction at 40 weeks. Because I want her to be as fully baked as possible, but I also can't risk myself going literally mad for what could be another four weeks, or even more depending on when little miss decides to make her appearance.

My (ex) midwife has advised that if it gets any worse, there's no reason they wouldn't bring the induction forward a little, and that if I were to go to the DAU with reduced movements now that it's something they would offer/suggest doing anyway.

Fourteen days. I'm literally counting down the days to her birth. Naturally the 40 week induction is not guaranteed to work, so it could be some extra days after that, but I'm hoping that as a second baby it will be more likely to work first time round. I'm hoping that it will be a swift labour and that I won't have any issue and won't have any need for heavy pain relief.

To say I'm nervous is an understatement, but I'm excited.