Originally posted on Life on the Outside, 1 January 2006.
You might have noticed a bit of a racket going on today while you were trying to sleep. Or perhaps you weren’t sleeping; perhaps you were just quietly contemplating all the new bits you’ve acquired now that you’re in your thirteenth week (congratulations, by the way). Ten of these and ten of these? What can they all be for?
Anyway, sorry about all the noise and bumping.
The thing was that your mother was rather sick today, the poor thing. At first, she had a pain in her stomach. A pain in the stomach can be bad enough on its own, but since the stomach is quite near to where you’re currently housed, we got a bit worried that you might be sick too.
She was so sick, in fact, that she had to miss going to a pantomime performance of Bugsy Malone she had been looking forward to. What’s worse, your aunt and your grandmother did go, and said that it was great fun, although they hadn’t really enjoyed it because they had been worried about your mother and you too. Then, while your grandfather was driving her home, your mother got violently sick into the nice new handbag she got for Christmas.
If you turn out to be a person who uses handbags, here’s today’s Earth Tip: handbags you throw up in are always Dry Clean Only.
At this point, I was on the way to an exhibition of the work of Albrecht Dürer with your other grandmother and grandfather, and we all had to rush back home to see if your mother, and you, were alright. (By now, four grandparents and two aunts, soon to be joined by an uncle, are worried about your mother and you.)
Well, we went to see a doctor, who wanted to know how old you were, and there was talk of ketones, whatever those are. Then, we went to see another doctor, a special doctor for mothers and babies (and foetuses) in a place called Holles Street. This is the hospital where we hope we’re going to meet you when you come out.
It turned out that the mothers and babies (and foetuses) doctor wasn’t nearly as concerned about the whole ketones issue as the other doctor had been, and took the view that you were quite alright in there (if we’d only keep the noise down) and that your mother just needed some rest and some soup.
We took her advice on the rest thing (your mother’s asleep now, which is why it’s nice and quiet), although not about the soup (only Chinese takeaway would do, apparently).
So, there you are. I know you’ve had a long day, so I’ll let you get some sleep too.
Sorry again about all the racket.