Thursday, 22 March 2012
I haven't had a bath in well over three years. No I'm not perpetually dirty: I do shower from time to time. Honest. The last time I had a bath I was pregnant with George and, like the swimming pool, it felt so wrong. But a few nights ago my hips were aching badly and Ray suggested that perhaps a warm bath before bedtime might just help.
Bath bomb, bubble bath, radio, babystuff catalogue to make hopeful lists from and I was ready.
So, with not a little trepidation, I lowered myself into the bubbles. Ahhh. It felt good. Just like the swimming pool now feels good. I relaxed. My hips relaxed. Marmaduke began to wriggle and I was rewarded with a display of belly wobbling from within. I laughed out loud. He did it again. Amazing.
This whole, being-pregnant-beyond-20-weeks-and-5-days thing is amazing, wonderful, incredible and very very scary.
The bath helped my hips for a while and the moving show helped my tattered heart, for a while. Anxiety is never far away but what a lovely way to drive it away, for a while.
Labels: Marmaduke The Magnificent