I’ve seen you. In fact I saw you before I felt you. I recognised you, because you used to wave at me during the pregnancy of my second baby. Those days I tried to ignore you and keep you intensely private. After all, that is where you travelled to, my privates…
But you are back. Bigger and better the advertisements would say. This time you started to poke up and out well before the 1st scan. A blue, bubbly trace from the outside of my knee, running across the back of my thigh all the way into my groin. Welcome to the charms of pregnancy. If you gave me a pen I would be able to draw a miniature road map of the entire vein structure across my left leg. It helps of course that the winter paleness of my legs does little to disguise the map. More annoyingly, I would be able to trace the stabbing pains that emerge from that leg as the day progresses. Sometimes it hurts in the morning on the first few steps I take. As I observe you in the bath, I try to remind myself that the blue vein is one of the ways of blood transportation to my new baby. The increased blood volume and -over time- weight, causes you to pop out. A common side effect, so they say.
I will get used to you. Just keep doing your job and me and you talk when baby is born. Deal?
The walk to school is short. Yesterday my eldest had asked me if the world could ever be destroyed. It was 830am in the morning and I struggled to find a comprehensive answer. Later that day he told me about the Eco-letter in his schoolbag and the fact that clouds in the sky come from all the pollution from cars and rockets and that no matter what it was better to walk….or scoot. I was starting to get a picture of what was being discussed in school. This morning therefore, I saw no alternative but to walk…..or scoot.
My boys were throwing a ball to and fro despite the fact that I had asked them to hold on to it a 100 times. They were negotiating at which next landmark the responsibility for the ball would be handed over, when I spotted some snowdrops along the side of the road. “Boys, look, snowdrops!”, I shouted out with excitement. In line with environmental awareness I thought it would be good to point out the first sign of spring, quite aside from the fact that I was genuinely pleased to see those delicate little flowers announcing that winter wasn’t going to last forever.
As we walked on there were batches of them everywhere in a field, present and modest, not fully opened yet. It looked truly beautiful, so wherever I saw them I pointed them out to the boys. Having walked this stretch on a regular basis this was the first time I had spotted them, so change was certainly in the air. The boys walked closely together in front of me, whispering to each other. “What are you guys talking about?” I tried to ask but they smiled until I overheard my eldest say “Mum has gone a bit mad!”