6.06: the soft cries of mama mama from BB’s cot transcend into loud wails of hunger. I struggle from the soft comfort of my duvet and stumble blindly into her room to see her stood inside the cot arms outstretched lips already pouting for a kiss. Whispering morning into her fair, warm hair we silently tip toe back to my room taking care not to wake any more small or hairy people in the home.
It ended, I collapsed
Let me describe the room as I stood in the corner feeling decidedly awkward as I clutched a wriggling BB to my chest. To the front of me was a bag filed high with instruments of all varieties, tambourines,xylophones, drums, even recorders. To my right stood a bunch of mothers, upon first glance I would term them first time mothers. To my left stood the bounciest, smilest, most energetic person I have encountered in some time. Basically take Jane from Rod, Jane and Freddy, inject her with a class A drug and you should have an image. To most this kind of happiness is infectious; to me it is a little scary.
I would be dead….
Both my pregnancies have resulted in me being placed in a wheelchair and wheeled into an operating theatre to have my children removed from my tummy via the sunroof. They were never traveling down the birth canal, with a shadow of a doubt without assistance from a team of midwives I would have died giving birth to my beautiful babies.
smell me, it’s my birthday…
So by following lives cruel rules I have aged another sodding year.
My wrinkles have increased as has my desire to encase my feet in soft slippers when ever it is socially plausible.
Terror: and how I survived…
Terrified…
There is no other word to sum up my emotions as I slowly climbed step by step, higher and higher towards the summit.