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Keira Knightley is expecting second child with husband James Righton, and she let her bump do the talking.
The Love Actually star, who’s known for keeping her personal life very private, kept the lovely news under wraps and did not make an official announcement until she attended an event where her blossoming bump was impossible to miss.
The 34-year-old attended a Chanel cocktail party in Paris with husband James Righton yesterday evening, and displayed her growing bump in a lovely white dress.
This will be Keira’s second child, after she welcomed daughter Edie back in 2015.
Speaking about motherhood, Keira has previously said that having a child has made her feel like she’s failing often.
She told Balance magazine: ‘I don’t think we give women enough credit for the physical and emotional marathon they go through when becoming a mother.
‘I come from a place of amazing privilege. I have an incredible support system; I've been unbelievably lucky in my career; I can afford good childcare… and yet I still find it really difficult.
‘It’s OK to say that. It doesn’t mean I don't love my kid, it's just me admitting that the sleep deprivation, the hormonal changes, the shift in relationship with my partner, are all things that make me feel as if I'm failing on a daily basis. I have to remind myself that I haven't failed, I’m just doing what I can do, but it’s not easy.’
The actor also described her own graphic experience of giving birth to her daughter in a essay titled The Weaker Sex, published in feminist collection Feminists Don’t Wear Pink (And Other Lies), where she criticised Kate Middleton for her post-birth appearances on the steps of Lindo Wing (opens in new tab).
She wrote at the time: ‘My vagina split. You came out with your eyes open. Arms up in the air. Screaming. They put you on to me, covered in blood, vernix, your head misshapen from the birth canal. Pulsating, gasping, screaming.
‘You latched on to my breast immediately, hungrily, I remember the pain. The mouth clenched tight around my nipple, light sucking on and sucking out. I remember the sh–, the vomit, the blood, the stitches. I remember my battleground. Your battleground and life pulsating. Surviving. And I am the weaker sex? You are?’