Three and a half weeks off Zee's due date. I suddenly fretted about not having any photos. I was in labour the next day and holding my new son in the early hours of the following morning…. I love the veins in my belly – the busy, busy work of a little body during pregnancy.
Yesterday. 3:30pm. Cabin fever was getting to everyone. Given the inclement weather and my strict rule not to murder the children at any time, we found ourselves at the McDonald’s play centre. Barring a brief altercation with a line-cutting elderly citizen (note: don’t get in the way of a geriatric chasing a hit of soft serve in a cone), we were having the very time of our lives.
Staring ahead, comatose Adoringly watching my adorable children play, I spied a woman kneeling in a nearby booth. The kneeling bit struck me as odd: it just seemed like an uncomfortable way to be sitting, mainly because she wasn’t four years old and also because she was very heavily pregnant.
She remained kneeling when her partner returned with their food and still kneeling, she hovered over the plastic tray and started to eat. Fast. Barely stopping to chew. Oh yes, I thought to myself, I remember that feeling. Eating during pregnancy is awesome.
Wow. She was really hoovering those fries. And then, quite suddenly, she stopped, leaned back slightly but then sort of hunched over herself again, head down and eyes closed.
Oh no, indigestion?
But as I watched her, the concentrated way she was breathing in and out, I realised, no, she’s in labour! And, no doubt, having read that eating in early labour is important to ensure you have energy later when you really need it, she’d made a beeline for Macca’s to get a quick Big Mac in before the hard work began.
I could not stop watching her. I stare blatantly at pregnant women at the best of times but this was fascinating.
And pang-inducing.
As I contemplated the idea of this woman possibly meeting her baby before the day was out, I found myself thinking about the births of my own children and also, about how my third birth might go.
Of course, there is the small matter of actually getting knocked up first…
Tick tick baw-gerk!*
*Yes, that’s my biological clock laying an egg.
Oh lay that egg Mumma. We need a little Muff Norshum x
Well now, that’s a name right there, isn’t it? LD is quite the genius…
Oh the pangs… they last forever with one who has been there and known the joy, but isn’t quite (or ever) ready to do it all again… a beautiful thing though xo
Sometimes I think the pangs are a kind of insanity. I am quite worn out with the kids I have!
I wonder how the woman went? Exciting! Makes me wonder, though, how I must have looked to other shoppers every time I had a contraction in the aisles of Coles (we did a bit of a shop when I was in early labour with P)… I did not care how I looked at the time, but it must have been a funny sight every time I stopped for a minute.
The only pangs that memory has brought back, for me, are the pangs of intense pain. Ouch!
(love your pic, by the way)
I know! I wanted to follow them home and see what happened next!
Pangs of intense pain? Maybe that’s how I’ll know I’m done having kids? Right now I think of the intense pain and want another go at handling it. I have strategies!
The pic is horrendo without that filter – all pasty white and HUGE!
Well, great colour for the filter! Life-giving and energizing. And so you should be huge, given Zee was here the next day. Duh! Perfect belly, too.
Yeah, maybe that’s how I’m 95% sure I’m ‘done’. When I think of the pain, I certainly don’t feel the need to try handling it again. After the size of P, I don’t need to prove anything to myself. Yeah, my body did a good job… but it didn’t leave me wanting more. Nope, not keen to repeat an almost 10-pounder. The thought makes me just about heave.
10 pounder? Yeah, that puts me off a little bit. You certainly have nothing to prove.