so strange is how much this new reality is in my thoughts all the time. I can’t put anything in my mouth without my brain suddenly doing a stop-and-search which makes me keep retching on what I’m eating, either because it might be dangerous or my tastebuds have suddenly banded together to bar certain foods. The radio plays nothing but songs about babies: Papa Don’t Preach, Hit Me Baby One More Time, pretty much anything from Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound, almost any pop song ever. Adverts are saturated with babies; pregnant women are everywhere; I’ve gone over my calendar again and again with my sketchy dates to try and work out at what stage I’ll be for everything we’ve got planned. And I’ll need to avoid Susie (my sister, and mother to seven-year-old twins Edward and Lily and baby Frida) – my vocabulary has suddenly shrunk to just a few phrases: the number of times I said ‘They’re such babies/why is he being such a baby/don’t be a baby’ at work today was absurd. Did I see Alice sniggering at one of those?
November 3rd
A baby. Pregnant. I’m still not used to this. I don’t even know where to start. New clothes? A cot? Thom said: ‘Maybe go and see a doctor.’ I’m glad I’m not doing this on my own.
At the doctor’s today, I looked around the waiting room at the other patients with new, wiser eyes. What could they be here for? A teenage girl looks nervous, and plays with her phone the whole time. Pregnant? A woman with three young children looks exhausted and keeps putting her head in her hands. Number four on the way? Then my name was called, and I saw my new doctor for the first time: a black woman a couple of years older than me, standing in the doorway, resting her hip against the frame and rubbing her pregnant stomach. In her office, we each tried to make the other sit down first. She said, ‘On three?’ and I laughed and sat down.
Dr Bedford: So, how can I help you today?
Me: [suddenly nervous] I think I might be … [indicating her]
Dr Bedford: Black?
Me: No! No, not … no, I mean –
Dr Bedford: I’m just kidding, Katherine.
I like her.
Dr Bedford: You think you might be pregnant?
Me: Haha, ha. Yes, I think I’m pregnant.
Dr Bedford: And what makes you think that?
Me: I’ve missed two periods, I did four pregnancy tests in the end and they were all positive.
Dr Bedford: Just wanting to make sure?
Me: Exactly.
Dr Bedford: And how do you feel about this pregnancy?
Me: It wasn’t exactly planned, so I freaked out a bit to begin with – we only just got married this summer –
Dr Bedford: Congratulations!
Me: Thank you – so I wasn’t really sure how to handle it all, but I’m really happy now. I think. We both are.
Dr Bedford: OK, congratulations for this too, then. You say you’ve missed two periods – do you think that’s how far along you could be?
Me: [suddenly feeling like I’ve made an embarrassing mistake] Ye-es. Is that a problem?
Dr Bedford: [laughing] Of course it’s not a problem, Katherine! We’re not going to send you away because you’re a little later noticing than some mothers! Now, I’ll give the hospital a ring to get you booked in for your twelve-week scan – obviously these things are often booked up a while in advance, but of course we’ll find space for you. How are you feeling in yourself?
Me: Fine, thanks.
Dr Bedford: Any tiredness, or aches? Any pains around your womb area?
Me: I did feel completely wiped out about a month ago. I kept coming home from work and falling straight to sleep. But I thought that was delayed trauma from everything that’s happened this year. Do you think it was related to this?
Dr Bedford: I think it almost certainly was. So you’re getting lots of rest now? Anything else, any aches?
Me: Some aching, but I thought it was just period pains. I assume that’s why I haven’t realised. I kept getting stretching, achey pains, then forgetting that the period itself didn’t actually show up. And my appetite has gone crazy – either I’m trying to eat everything, or there’s nothing I can eat without feeling sick. I actually kept meaning to come and see you about it.
Dr Bedford: That’s quite normal, I’m afraid. And how have you been taking care of yourself, generally? Do you smoke or take drugs?
Me: [triumphant] No! Neither!
Dr Bedford: [laughing again] Well, that is something. How about drinking? What’s your weekly intake?
Me: Average?
Dr Bedford: What do you think we’re talking; a bottle of wine a night?
Me: God, no! Actually, it has been way less recently. That’s weird.
Dr Bedford: As long as you’re cutting back now, that’s all that matters. What’s done is done, yes?
Me: I suppose so.
Dr Bedford: I’ll sort out that scan, and give you this booklet [hands over giant A4 folder]. It will hopefully answer any questions you’ve got, give you some idea how to take care of yourself, and let you know all the check-ups and scans you’ll be having. You might also want to think about joining one of the antenatal groups around here, to meet some other mums.
Me: [choking sound]
Dr Bedford: Are you alright?
Me: Mums. Other mums. Other mums. Is it hot in here?
Dr Bedford: It could help you, Katherine, if you want to talk about this with people who might know what you’re going through right now. Do you have any other questions?
Me: Doctor.
Dr Bedford: Yes, Katherine.
Me: Is this all going to be OK?
Dr Bedford: I can’t tell you that, Katherine, but you’re a sensible girl. If you’re eating well and taking care of yourself, I don’t see that there should be any reason to worry. But it’s the scan that can really tell you what you’re looking for. Anything else?
Me: Can you tell my parents?
Dr Bedford: Do you think they’ll be upset?
Me: No. I think they’ll be delighted. I’m just not sure I can cope with it.
Dr Bedford: Well, Katherine, I’m always here if you need support or guidance, but do bear in mind [leaning in, conspiratorial] I’ve only two months to my maternity leave and I do have quite a few people to see before I can go. So …
Me: I see. Thanks, Doctor.
Dr
