A near miss with the hormones…
My friends Keith and Sarah had a lovely wee baby girl, Katie, this morning and I’ve just been in the Matty to see her with my sister. What a peach! Lovely…. Lovely…. Lovely! Nothing like a newborn to turn a woman of child bearing age a wee bit mental.
But let’s go back nine months to when the first of three babies born this year in my circle of people was born. My wonderful niece Peggy was born and I was going up to see her for the first time. I took my husband aside before we set off.
Me: “Ok when we see this baby IF I look like I might even say anything suggesting that I want another, then take me straight out of the hospital and slap me about until I change my mind. Hose me down with cold water if you have to”
John agrees but secretly thinks, “Me and the boys will definitely be back in action. Just watch”
So… we go up and I held Peggy and it was great. She was (is) so lovely and amazing but nothing hormonal happened. Yay! I was free! The “I want one now!!!!!” voice wasn’t there in my head. What a relief. It was wonderful.
So as we both feel we’ve done our bit for Scotland and produced the future first independent Scottish female Prime Minister and the future scorer of the winning goal of the World Cup for Scotland (against England, of course) and the most handsome boy in the world, we start to weigh up our options mainly based on the property market, wanting more long lies and not being arsed with the hassle anymore.
So a few months later John and I have decided to cut and run as far as the baby game goes (if you know what I mean- No? OK it begins with a V and ends in an ectomy). We’re finished, the womb is closed for business and the ball bags are for recreational purposes only.
So tonight when I go up to see her Babieness of Katie I’m a little worried. Will the voice come back? And if it does …..what a nightmare!!!! I want to go and see Sarah, I want to go and see Keith, I want to go and see how their little boy is doing being a big brother, I want to hold the little tree frog and smell her little velveteen head….but I don’t want to hear the voices. I’m scared!
I’m sweating as I go up the stairs, I make cheap jibes about the amount of teen mums hanging about outside in their dressing gowns smoking beside their Kappa clad boyfriends to keep my mind off what might happen. We walk past the door that you go into to deliver and both go ” Wooooo! Remember going through that door, what a nightmare! Never again!”
But I’m still thinking “No, little voice please don’t make me go crazy!”
We go in, we visit, we hold, we fuss, we commiserate about sore bits, we kiss proud and knackered dad, we make big deal of big brother and the voices stay away.
Phew!…..And we’re clear!
A near miss with the hormones…
My friends Keith and Sarah had a lovely wee baby girl, Katie, this morning and I’ve just been in the Matty to see her with my sister. What a peach! Lovely…. Lovely…. Lovely! Nothing like a newborn to turn a woman of child bearing age a wee bit mental.
But let’s go back nine months to when the first of three babies born this year in my circle of people was born. My wonderful niece Peggy was born and I was going up to see her for the first time. I took my husband aside before we set off.
Me: “Ok when we see this baby IF I look like I might even say anything suggesting that I want another, then take me straight out of the hospital and slap me about until I change my mind. Hose me down with cold water if you have to”
John agrees but secretly thinks, “Me and the boys will definitely be back in action. Just watch”
So… we go up and I held Peggy and it was great. She was (is) so lovely and amazing but nothing hormonal happened. Yay! I was free! The “I want one now!!!!!” voice wasn’t there in my head. What a relief. It was wonderful.
So as we both feel we’ve done our bit for Scotland and produced the future first independent Scottish female Prime Minister and the future scorer of the winning goal of the World Cup for Scotland (against England, of course) and the most handsome boy in the world, we start to weigh up our options mainly based on the property market, wanting more long lies and not being arsed with the hassle anymore.
So a few months later John and I have decided to cut and run as far as the baby game goes (if you know what I mean- No? OK it begins with a V and ends in an ectomy). We’re finished, the womb is closed for business and the ball bags are for recreational purposes only.
So tonight when I go up to see her Babieness of Katie I’m a little worried. Will the voice come back? And if it does …..what a nightmare!!!! I want to go and see Sarah, I want to go and see Keith, I want to go and see how their little boy is doing being a big brother, I want to hold the little tree frog and smell her little velveteen head….but I don’t want to hear the voices. I’m scared!
I’m sweating as I go up the stairs, I make cheap jibes about the amount of teen mums hanging about outside in their dressing gowns smoking beside their Kappa clad boyfriends to keep my mind off what might happen. We walk past the door that you go into to deliver and both go ” Wooooo! Remember going through that door, what a nightmare! Never again!”
But I’m still thinking “No, little voice please don’t make me go crazy!”
We go in, we visit, we hold, we fuss, we commiserate about sore bits, we kiss proud and knackered dad, we make big deal of big brother and the voices stay away.
Phew!…..And we’re clear!
