One night last week, I strode out of the bathroom waving my toothbrush to corner H in the study. ‘H,’ I said, mintily, ‘I’ve just had an important thought. Two important thoughts. One, if we ever get to heartbeat stage, we could always nickname the creature ‘Willow’, given that it’s having its life saved by acetylsalicylic acid.’
H agreed that this was a pretty cool idea. He likes the name ‘Willow’ anyway.
‘And two,’ I continued, ‘If I ever get pregnant again, you must take a photo of me at once. We don’t have any photos at all of me pregnant. We ought to have a photo of me pregnant, even if you can’t tell that I am. We may not have a chance to get a photo of me obviously pregnant. But I have been pregnant. It ought to be commemorated.’
So H hugged me tight, and promised to take the photo.
I have no particular reason for sharing this right now. I haven’t even peed on a stick yet. I just wanted to write it down before I forgot, or before we get overtaken by events again.