From Here to Maternity (22 page)

‘What can I say? I’m a sex symbol,’ said Donal, leaning back in the couch.

‘I don’t think Hugh Hefner has anything to worry about yet. But I’m going to stop buying you shirts. You can wear your old checked numbers from now on. Clearly I’ve been dressing you too well. The neck of that girl Sarah Talbot! Who the hell does she think she is?’

‘She’s just someone with excellent taste. You should appreciate me more, Lucy. I am a wanted man.’

‘Oh, God, I can’t listen to this. I’m going for a swim.’

‘Drive carefully. You don’t want to have any disfiguring accidents,’ said Donal, as a cushion landed on his head.

As my bump got bigger and I began to feel increasingly like a hippo I decided to try pregnancy yoga. I kept hearing how wonderful yoga was for pregnancy and how it made you all bendy for the labour and how women who practised it popped out their babies without even a twinge. It sounded good to me, and although I had tried non-pregnancy yoga and found it to be complicated and painful, I presumed that this would be a toned-down version and, hopefully, would involve lots of breathing and relaxing.

I asked around and everyone said, ‘You must go to Poppy. She’s a genius and has a lovely studio at the back of her house that looks out over the sea.’ So I called Poppy and booked myself in. She sounded very nice on the phone, and as I donned my elasticated pink tracksuit bottoms and a tent-like T-shirt, I felt that it was going to be great. I offloaded Yuri on his father and headed off for a couple of hours.

Six other girls were sitting straight-backed and cross-legged on the floor when I shuffled in. I tried to copy their posture but couldn’t get one leg over the other without crippling myself so I opted to sit on my knees with my legs tucked under me, which was only marginally less painful. Poppy introduced me to everyone. I was the new kid on the block. They were all very Zen-like and were all in earthy-coloured yoga-wear. I felt a bit foolish in my cerise pink tracksuit, but it was the only thing that fitted me, so I’d really had no choice.

Poppy started the class with some deep breathing, which was quite nice except that she and the rest of the class sounded as if they were choking when they breathed out – it was very loud and offputting. After five minutes of the raspy breathing, Poppy took a stone from her bag and passed it to the girl on her left. ‘Now we’ll have the section of the class where we talk about our feelings and face our fears.’

I know it’s immature and juvenile but I’m just not good with this type of thing. I panic when I have to speak in front of a group of strangers so I began to sweat. So much for a relaxing two hours. Glenda, current holder of the stone, rubbed her tummy as she told us how she had bonded with her baby over the last week and how she felt like a mother already. She was thirty-two weeks gone and said she felt her child would have a lovely personality and would be a caring person who would make a difference in the world. I was still wondering how on earth she had come up with that prognosis when she announced that she had finalized her birthing-pool and was all set for her home birth.

‘Home birth!’ I squealed. I hadn’t intended to say it out loud, but I was shocked. Wasn’t that something that they did in
The Little House on the Prairie
? Hadn’t we moved on since then? Weren’t hospitals where you went to have babies? Was this woman really planning on having her baby in a paddling-pool in the kitchen? Did her husband get into his swimming togs and hop in with her? Would the doctor have to wear goggles and a snorkel?

Six heads swivelled in my direction. ‘That’s right,’ said Glenda, ‘I’m having a home birth. Four of the women here are. You should consider it. It’s so much better for the baby. There’s a day’s conference about spiritual midwifery on next Saturday – why not come along?’

‘Sure it sounds great,’ I said, trying to be casual. How was it better for the baby to be greeted into the world by the Man from Atlantis?

The next stone confessor was Pam. She had breastfed her first child until it was two and was planning on doing the same with this baby. She loved breastfeeding and had been devastated when she’d had to give up because her child’s teeth were cutting into her flesh. I looked around at the other girls. Come on, was this for real? Someone else must be finding it a little weird. A child of two sucking at its mother’s breast? Was I living in a parallel world where this seemed really odd? I caught Tania’s eye. She was sitting to my right and she very subtly raised an eyebrow at me. Aha, a kindred spirit. At least I wasn’t alone.

Poppy asked if we were all looking forward to breastfeeding. In turn everyone said yes – even my own hope, Tania, the traitor – and then it came to me and I said no.

‘Are you worried about the baby not latching on?’ asked Poppy, sweetly.

‘Not really. I’m actually thinking about not breastfeeding at all,’ I mumbled, feeling shock waves throughout the room.

‘Oh’ said Poppy, looking bemused. ‘Did you have a bad experience last time?’

‘We adopted Yuri when he was ten months old so he was already on bottles. I just don’t really fancy it to be honest. It looks sore and my friend who tried it said it was horrendous and told me about cracked nipples and mastitis, so I just thought I’d give it a miss.’

‘But you do realize that breast is best for baby? What are a few months of discomfort when your baby’s health is at stake?’ said Glenda.

‘Well, my mother didn’t breastfeed any of us and we’re all OK,’ I said defensively.

‘That’s because she didn’t know better. It has been proven that breast milk is best for babies and that it makes them more intelligent.’

‘Milk makes them clever?’ I asked. Come on, Glenda, give me a break here – milk makes your kid smart? Sure we’d all be hiring wet-nurses before our exams if that was the case.

‘It’s been scientifically proven.’

‘Well, if this child doesn’t get straight As in his exams I’ll live with it.’

‘Why don’t we move on to some exercises?’ said Poppy, jumping in before Glenda and I got physical and started bouncing our bumps off each other. ‘I want you to rock back and forth with a partner.’

Of course no one wanted to partner the freak who wouldn’t breastfeed so Poppy had to take me. She was very bendy and I was very stiff. She pulled and tugged at my arms and legs to get me to loosen up. Then she asked if I was doing my Kegel exercises.

‘Um, what’s that?’ I asked, feeling like a complete moron now. Maybe they were right about the breastfeeding. Clearly I was thick due to my mother’s negligence.

‘They’re your pelvic-floor exercises. After you’ve given birth, your pelvic-floor muscles must receive top priority or you could end up incontinent. It’s vital that you strengthen the muscles before and after the birth.’

Incontinent! Christ, this was the most unrelaxing, stressful two hours of my life. Sometimes information can be a bad thing. I didn’t want to end up in nappies for the rest of my life. I’d be getting two for the price of one – baby and adult ones. ‘What do I need to do? Tell me,’ I begged.

‘It’s very simple. You just need to draw up the pelvic floor. You should feel the sides of the sphincters become tight and the inside passages become tense. Hold for ten seconds, then relax.’

I looked blankly at her. What on earth was she talking about? I had no idea what my sphincters were, so how could I know if they were tight or not? Poppy spotted my distress and laid a hand on my arm. ‘OK, Emma, you basically use the muscles you’d use if you were trying to stop yourself urinating. You squeeze those muscles together as if you were stopping your urine mid-flow.’

OK, I understood now. I tried it out. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded. ‘How often do I need to do these?’

‘About fifty times a day every day for the rest of your life. They’re very important. The good thing is you can do them anywhere, driving your car, watching TV…’

‘Have you started your internal vaginal massaging?’ asked Pam, the resident dairymaid. ‘You’ll need to use pure vegetable oil.’

There’s only so much a girl can take. I knew my limits, and internal vaginal massaging with cooking oil had pushed me over the edge. I said I felt unwell and hightailed it out of the door. Clearly yoga, in any form, was not for me.

Chapter 25

Lucy called Jess and me, wanting to meet up. She said it was important and sounded excited on the phone. I was convinced she was pregnant. She hadn’t been drinking the last two times I’d met her and her boobs had got bigger. I held my breath as she walked into the bar. ‘So,’ I said, ‘what’s up?’

‘Brace yourselves,’ said Lucy, grinning. ‘Annie worships me.’

‘What?’ I asked, startled. ‘But she was horrible to you when you came to watch the match with me a couple of weeks ago.’

‘I thought she couldn’t stand you,’ said Jess.

‘Yes, well, that was before she had sex.’

‘Sex? But she’s only a kid,’ said Jess, clearly worried about her little Sally.

‘Apparently they’re doing it younger these days,’ said Lucy.

‘Why did she tell you?’ I asked.

‘Because she thought she was pregnant. So, I’m in work last week and my mobile rings…’ Lucy explained that Annie had called her in a complete state. She was sobbing on the phone and could barely speak she was so upset. Lucy managed to figure out that Annie had had unprotected sex with a boy from a boarding-school half a mile from hers and now she thought she was pregnant.

‘When did you have sex?’ Lucy asked.

‘Two weeks ago,’ cried Annie.

‘How late is your period?’

‘Three days.’

‘Look, it’s very unlikely that you’re pregnant. I’ll come and collect you and make an appointment with my gynaecologist and we’ll find out. If you are, we’ll sort it out. Don’t worry, Annie, I’m sure you’re just late because you’re stressed.’

‘Please don’t tell Donal. I’m begging you, Lucy. I don’t want him to think I’m a slut. I’m not, honestly. I just really liked this boy – he’s so gorgeous, everyone fancies him, and when he liked me I was thrilled. All the girls were dead jealous. He said he’d dump me if I didn’t sleep with him and I didn’t want it to end. It was great being cool for a while. But now I’ve ruined my life and Donal will hate me.’

‘Hey, Annie, come on, now. Donal will love you no matter what happens. But I won’t tell him if you don’t want me to. Let’s just take it one step at a time. I’ll think of an excuse to get you out for the day and pick you up first thing in the morning and we’ll go to the doctor. Now, get some rest and don’t worry.’

‘Thanks, Lucy,’ said Annie, as she blew her nose. ‘I’m sorry for being mean to you.’

‘It’s OK. See you tomorrow.’

The next day Lucy collected Annie and took her to see the gynaecologist. He did a pregnancy test and declared Annie not pregnant. Then he talked to her about the importance of protection. He said she was very young to be having sex and should be concentrating on her exams. She could worry about boys later. Annie cried with relief.

Lucy took her out for a celebration lunch and Annie poured out her heart to her. She told her how much she missed her parents and how sometimes she felt like a burden to Donal. How she felt guilty because he had had to move back to Ireland when Annie’s parents died to look after her. She said she wished she had sisters because she had never had anyone to talk to about girly things.

Lucy told her that she would love to be her surrogate big sister and she could call her any time about anything. Annie hugged her and said she’d never forget today and how Lucy had been so good to her. When Lucy dropped her back to school, Annie leant over and kissed her. ‘You’re amazing, Lucy. I’m so glad Donal met you.’ It was Lucy who was in tears as she drove out of the school gates.

‘Oh, Lucy,’ I said, welling up. ‘That’s fantastic. I’m so pleased for you. No more hassle with Annie, it must be such a weight off your mind.’

Lucy nodded. ‘You’ve no idea. I’m thrilled. It will make life so much easier.’

‘Did you tell Donal?’ Jess asked.

‘No. He’d have hit the roof and gone down to skin the boy alive. It’s best he doesn’t know.’

‘Won’t he be surprised by your new relationship with Annie?’ I asked.

‘Well, I told him I’d taken Annie out to lunch and that we’d had an open, honest chat and were now on good terms. He seemed to accept it. You know men, they never ask too many questions.’

We ordered drinks and toasted Lucy’s new best friend.

Lucy asked us what we’d been up to, so I told them about my yoga fiasco. Jess said there were far too many breastfeeding Nazis out there and that I wasn’t to worry. Lucy said yoga was overrated and I’d be better off swimming as (a) I wouldn’t have to talk to other pregnant women, and (b) you’re weightless when you swim so I couldn’t do any damage to myself.

‘Yes, but I hate changing rooms. I’m just not that comfortable with the whole naked thing.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Lucy.

‘You know, all that striding around bare-arsed in the changing rooms. I can’t focus on a conversation when someone’s boobs are in my face.’

‘Who are you planning on talking to?’ asked Jess.

‘Well, people just chat to you. I don’t know why, but any time I’ve been to the pool or a gym – and, let’s face it, it’s not often – there’s always lots of “hell of a class, great workout” chat afterwards. And the women who talk to you are always very comfortable in their own skin so it’s Boobs and Pubic Hair City. I never know where to look.’

‘I hate that too,’ said Jess. ‘I always scurry to and from the shower with a big towel round me, then try to put my clothes on under it. I can see the other women looking at me like I’m a freak.’

‘I never think about it,’ said Lucy.

‘That’s because you have a great figure,’ I said. ‘Jess and I have a lot more to hide.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ said Jess, feigning insult. ‘I’m a thin woman in a chubby woman’s body.’

‘Well, I currently look like Shrek so I’m not comfortable with being naked in front of anyone, not even James. I’ve actually found myself getting dressed in the bathroom. Whoever said being pregnant was sexy? Come on, what’s sexy about your boobs being so big they droop down and stick to your stomach, which has swollen to the size of a basketball?’