Oh no. I can feel it rising in my throat, and the bell has just gone. I need to get ready for Year 10. But…heartburn.

You think you’ve had it. You’re reading this, thinking that it’s no big deal; you rode out the heartburn on Christmas Day, and after that spicy takeaway, and when you mixed all that beer and chocolate.

But you’ve not had it the way a pregnant woman has had it.

I look for my industrial-size bottle of Gaviscon. I rummage through an enormous bag that I have begun to carry around, which is full of what can only be described as “stuff” (best not to ask further questions).

There, under a takeaway menu, I find it. I take a quick swig and -

Oh: many pairs of eyes are looking at me. Year 10 has arrived. I force the bottle back into my “stuff” bag.

“It’s not what it looks like!” I offer to their puzzled, judging stares. “I mean, your essays on Macbeth definitely could drive a woman to drink, but that is not what is happening here, I promise!”

The life of a pregnant teacher is full of moments like this. Pregnancy is hard enough when you’re not working in a school; those early weeks waiting for the scan seem to stretch out into an eternity - will I make it that far? What is happening to my body? Why am I so unbelievably hungry/tired/exuberant/sick - sometimes all in the same 24-hour period?

And later: why can’t I stop going to the loo? Why are stairs so horribly high? And why does everything, and I mean everything, irritate the hell out of me?

Put that person into an environment in which they are working with a chunk of the population also coping with fluctuating hormones and you have a situation that could politely be called explosive.

Next year, things are likely to be even tougher for pregnant teachers: uncertainty about your body will be matched with uncertainty about work, health and the welfare of our students. The novel coronavirus is one about which we still know so little. Being pregnant is going to cause significantly more anxiety than it would in more normal times.

So, as someone who has been through it twice, who has done everything you should not and made all the mistakes there are to make, I feel it is my duty in these turbulent times to offer you a guide. Here’s the benefit of a bit of science, a bit of experience and a whole lot of sleepless nights.

Stage 1: The realisation

Oh, I am. I definitely am. One sip of prosecco and immediate nausea? I barely need to take the test. The bone-deep tiredness. The inexplicable rage…

As the faintest line appeared on the white stick, a swirl of emotions hit me. Although the pregnancy was planned, nothing prepares you for this jolt of visceral reality: your body is not yours for a while now - a tiny, but determined, clump of cells is making its presence known.

Soft cheese and home measures (read: enormous glasses) of gin are off the menu, replaced by odd cravings or aversions and a gnawing sense of “should I be eating this?”.

And then the unnecessary but niggling sense of guilt begins: you are going to be “abandoning” your classes and department. Have you timed this right? What will it do to your pupils and your colleagues?

Next year, there will be even more questions: haven’t these kids had enough disruption already? What if the school is left with too few staff?

Teaching is vocational. We try not to take sick days. We don’t clock-watch. The line between our job and our personal life is often far too blurry.

So, while finding out that you are pregnant as a teacher is, of course, joyous, the obligations to the job run deep, so it is entirely normal to feel anxious, worried and emotional. And it’s absolutely understandable that, for many, the heady cocktail of new hormones swirling around the body combined with the often relentlessness of the average term-time week feels overwhelming.

Give yourself a break. You’ve done nothing wrong. Everything at school will be fine. Both staff and pupils will be happy for you.

But then you need to get practical.

The number one thing I would recommend is eating well. Too often, we fail to prioritise our bodies when working in schools. If you are as guilty as I am of stocking your department office with biscuits and coffee in lieu of a proper lunch, take a little time at the weekend to sort out food for the week.

As early in your pregnancy as three to four weeks, you can start to feel unwell, but ensuring that you are as nourished as you can be during the working day, with some protein in your lunch box and plenty of water at the ready, will do wonders. If we are still working on rotas or remotely next year, plan your meals and snacks as if you were at school.

When it comes to drinks, the medical advice is to limit caffeine as soon as you find out you are expecting, so if coffee has been your main source of liquid (*raises hand*) then it’s time to make a change now. I promise caffeine withdrawal isn’t as bad as it’s made out to be.

Finally, let’s talk about exhaustion. You will be tired and the teacher mantra is to never say no. The two don’t mix.

In more normal times, you would likely not tell anyone that you are pregnant at this stage. However, if the threat of Covid is still at a level that makes you anxious to be in school - or at least around lots of staff and pupils - then you could consider telling a trusted member of the leadership team at this early stage to see if your working conditions can be changed.

Whether you do reveal all or not, though, make sure you get a break - too often we fill our lunchtimes with that extra intervention session or last-minute photocopying. We are all guilty of feeling guilty about saying no to things - but your body will thank you for scaling back.

Stage 2: The revelation

That period between knowing that you’re pregnant and having your scan can be one of the most intense experiences of your life, not just your pregnancy. Not only are you anxious about seeing if everything is OK, but you’re also anxious because you are now lying to almost every person you meet in a work context in which you tell kids off for…lying.

Although you may not be visibly pregnant as yet, you might be seriously struggling with nausea, sickness, mood swings or tiredness. Obstetrician Charis Smith explains that “at this stage in your pregnancy, your body is working hard to grow the embryo. There is more blood pumping around your body, and hormone production is likely to be causing you some unpleasant side effects”.

This means that whether you are in the classroom or working remotely, you won’t be on top of your game all the time, and you will also be making excuses for how you are acting that won’t be entirely truthful.

So, let me give you some advice: if you haven’t told anyone in leadership as yet (see stage 1) - legally you don’t have to tell your employer you are pregnant until 15 weeks before your due date (this is called your notification week) - you might want to let your line manager know at this point.

If, as I did, you struggle with a constant sickness-inducing churning of the stomach, which threatens to boil over (quite literally) at any moment, it can be daunting to have to constantly explain quite why you need to be close to a loo at all times, or why you’re eating digestive biscuits at 8.33am. Never was there such a misnomer as “morning sickness”; this beast can show up at any time of day or night, and it is exhausting.

So, I told my headteacher pretty much as soon as I got pregnant, to smiles and congratulations, and I had a health and safety assessment set up within the week. However, some may wish to wait for personal reasons. In these situations, you still need to make people aware when you feel unwell or need changes to your working conditions.

Stage 3: What happened to my second trimester glow?

All the baby books tell you that after 12 weeks (when the placenta takes over the production of hormones such as progesterone and oestrogen), the symptoms of early pregnancy - like being absolutely knackered and constantly wondering if what is going to come out of your mouth is going to be word vomit or, you know, actual vomit - will abate.

The baby books lie. Well, in my case they did, anyway.

Don’t worry if, by the time you hit week 14 or 15, you are still able to stomach only Fanta and the odd slice of toast (see how quickly my stage 1 advice on food is overrun by the need for quick hits of sugar? Don’t copy me!).

However, if you are concerned that you’re not getting enough nutrients in, or you’re still being very unwell most days, your midwife will be able to support you with this. It may be that you need to speak to your leadership team - and possibly your union - about your working arrangements.

This is not failure. This is doing the right thing, and schools have a duty of care to you. If anyone says otherwise, make sure they are in direct line of sight next time you feel a vomit approaching.

But there is some hope: it is very unlikely that you will feel quite this awful for your whole pregnancy. For me, around week 16 was when I realised I was waking up and not immediately regretting moving my head off the pillow.

Stage 4: The great name debate

Are you going to find out the sex?

That question, over and over again, all the way until your 20-week scan and then, suddenly, the scan arrives. And you actually have to decide.

With both my children (boys), I chose not to find out officially beforehand. There is no right or wrong answer. But it will determine how easy the task you have next is going to be. I doubled my trouble.

What am I referring to? The great name debate. For any normal couple, this is naturally a source of great discussion. Names will be agonised over. But for teachers? Both my unborn children bore the moniker of Wigbert for the duration of my pregnancies, and for a few days after (don’t worry, they are named Frederick and Austen now) because of one thing: for those who work in schools, names become…loaded.

Your partner mentions a name. All you see is the kid in 8C who threw their book at you. Your partner mentions another; ugh, that pupil who made your NQT year a living hell comes into view. Well, what about this name, says your partner. Without missing a beat, you say no: they should have seen what that child did to Mr Wingstate.

To save your relationship, you must sit and write The List. The List contains the names you can never use, because of the associations with children you have taught.

Remember young Terrence, who vomited on your shoes in your NQT year? Out. Violet with the horrible mother, who turned parents’ evening into a nightmare? Gone.

Not finding out the sex of your child doubles the fun (or pain).

Stage 5: It’s getting awkward

“Miss? Are you pregnant or are you…just a bit fat?”

One of the reasons why we chose teaching is the refreshing honesty of children, isn’t it? And then you get this.

Before falling pregnant, I assumed that I would grow a lovely little spherical bump that I would lovingly pat as I wore my normal work trousers slung underneath until, ooh, at least the sixth month.

As it turned out, neither of my sons weighed more than 7.5lb at birth, but I certainly housed them in a comfy seat. Your bump may be a neat little parcel or, like me, you may swell alarmingly and rapidly, until it seems like the only way you can get through the day without punching well-meaning colleagues is to just hold up a sign saying “No…a couple of months left.”

If the constant questions, the price of your new “accommodating” wardrobe and the children calling you fat wasn’t enough, your spatial awareness may not grow at the same time as your bump. On more than one occasion, my vastness managed to sweep entire piles of mocks on to the floor, just from my turning around to write on the board.

Backache might start to be a real issue from now on, too. SPD (symphysis pubis dysfunction) is a common complaint during pregnancy, caused by the hormone relaxin, which is released by the body to loosen your muscles in order to help you give birth.

However, Smith says that “this can also mean that your body becomes hypermobile or unbalanced, which can cause a lot of pain”.

So, what to do with all this joy that I just laid out?

• Be honest with your pupils - tell them what’s happening.
• Invest in comfy clothes and even comfier shoes. Trust me.
• Physiotherapy will help with SPD. Your midwife can organise this for you.

Don’t be afraid to teach sitting down, if that helps. If you have access to a visualiser, this can be an ideal way to still display the models or other writing that you need to show students, as well as giving you a few moments of respite.

Stage 6: ‘Yes…I’m still here’ *weak smile*

By the time you get to the final few weeks before you start maternity or shared parental leave (an aside: do look into SPL, particularly if your partner also works in the public sector), you may be thinking about what is going to happen in your absence, and who is going to take charge of the classes you have been carefully training up to perfection.

This can be a challenge for many. As a faculty leader in a core department, I was naturally concerned about how things would fare in my absence.

Don’t shy away from this if you are feeling anxious about leaving. I felt incredibly conflicted during the latter half of both of my pregnancies: on the one hand, impending parenthood was feeling extremely “real” and I wanted nothing more than to sit at home in a lovely baby-scented fug of domesticity, but, on the other, I was worried about how my classes and department were going to get on without me.

In fact, I actually went in for results day with my 24-hour-old baby strapped to my chest. Yes, really. (Spoiler: they were fine!)

So, it can be hard to switch off in the final weeks, but it is important to start to let go. Whether you are taking a short maternity leave, doing SPL or taking your full entitlement, the fact is that you’re going to be responsible for birthing and looking after an actual human baby - it’s the biggest learning curve you’ll ever have in your life.

Let go gradually, do it honestly and vocalise your anxiety. People will understand. They won’t judge you. And if you make it a downhill jog and not a cliff jump, you will be better able to cope mentally.

Stage 7: The end (and, of course, the beginning)

Look, you made it! However you managed your pregnancy while teaching, getting to the finishing line is an achievement. Teaching when pregnant is hard - but it is also a joy. To share your pregnancy with a school can cause you problems but it can also bring you so many rewards.

And I really would share it. Fighting the prying eyes of a school will only bring you more anxiety. My advice? Answer the questions, take the help, embrace the “fame”. Own it.

And own your achievement. You may not pour yourself a huge gin when you get back from the hospital, but it really is fine to have one or two while breastfeeding (the NHS says so, see - bit.ly/NewMumAlcohol). You deserve it.

Laura May Rowlands is head of faculty for English and literacy at Woodlands Community College in Southampton

This article originally appeared in the 3 July 2020 issue under the headline “The diary of a pregnant teacher”