My recent birthday was a remarkably warm Indian Summer afternoon and I sat in the square outside Spitalfields Market, eating Hummingbird Bakery cupcakes with my friend Jane. It occurred to me at that moment that things would never be the same again. And I’m not just talking about being able to resist the rather tantalising looking, yet e-number crammed rainbow cake I’d seen in the bakery earlier.
It all started with my visit to the 20-something substitute midwife a couple of weeks ago. “You look fantastic for a pregnant lady in her 40’s” she said to me…on the day before my 36th birthday.
I had always been mistaken for being younger than I actually am. Never older. So it hit me hard.
Was this the beginning of how it happens? Getting a Claire Balding haircut, buying a minivan, joining Pinterest? (Oh God, I just joined Pinterest!) Next thing you know, boom, you’ve got crows feet and find yourself in tears at the Creme de la Mer counter.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve felt great throughout most of this pregnancy. A little sick at the beginning and perhaps these days, at week 22, I move at a…slightly slower pace. I desperately am fighting pregnant lady waddle, but am not sure how much longer I will be able to fight that off as my whopper of a baby continues to grow.
I sit here in my living room as the builders upstairs listen (and occasionally sing along) to Latvian radio. We are converting our second bathroom into a nursery. A nursery! I remember when we were house hunting. We’d see nurseries and think “that would make a great second bathroom!” I’m excited about this nursery and its future occupant.
But I really do miss having a second bathroom.