AFRIEND of mine has just announced her first pregnancy.

She was so excited, talking about baby clothes, prams and, ooh, just a little hint of morning sickness.

A LITTLE HINT? My God, my morning sickness lasted all day. . . from May to September. Of course, being the true friend that I am I took great delight relaying my horror stories to my pal, who was turning greener by the minute.

My first pangs of morning sickness were welcomed. I mean, I was pregnant and over the moon and anyway, everyone told me it would only last for 11 weeks. Just a nibble on a Rich Tea biscuit in the morning would soon banish the malaise.

By week 12 however I was laid up in hospital hooked up to a drip and resembling Regan from the Exorcist.

They let me out after a week because I told the doctor I'd managed to eat a piece of dry brown toast. I didn't tell her I had re-introduced said toast to the hospital loo a couple of minutes later, but I'm sure the Armatige Shanks tattoo on my forehead gave the game away.

Back home, things went considerably worse. I managed to drag myself out of bed and downstairs when one of the family would arrive to "look after" me.

This role consisted of opening all the windows -- I had the nose of a Bloodhound -- and removing all evidence of food from house.

Then my mum came up with a bright idea. A doctor friend of ours kindly provided a large supply of surgical masks which I wore constantly to mask the imaginary offensive smells emitting from the kitchen.

I will never forget the window cleaner's face when he saw me, slumped glassy-eyed on the settee. My hair hadn't seen a drop of water for months and I was sporting a pair of flannelette pyjamas (it was summer but I was so thin I couldn't keep warm), my husband's dressing gown, leg warmers and a white surgical mask.

By the time my husband got home from work the sickness would be all encompassing and I could just manage to climb upstairs to bed.

My husband's evening meal consisted of a take-away (I couldn't stand the smell of cooking) eaten at the bottom of the garden or, if the weather turned inclement, in the car. Happily come September my sickness had gone and my appetite, a very healthy one I might add, had returned.

I used this last piece of information to reassure my pal.

Next week I shall tell her about labour and the birth.