That Shirt, Part 1

Rummaging through my ‘smalls’ drawer tonight (isn’t that a great expression? It must date back to my grandmothers’ time, or at least until before I had kids because frankly what used to be small in there, ‘aint so small anymore!) I found what I was hunting for. It’s my favourite nightshirt which in fact I call my Birthing Shirt. Doesn’t the name alone make you shudder?? And you don’t’ even know the story behind it, although you may think you do…
Long, long ago when I was pregnant with our first child, I had more than a little trouble getting to grips with the fact that I was going to have a baby. Yes, it was planned, and yes, I’d been married for several years but frankly I’m just not mother material. Never have been. I don’t lack compassionate attributes: in my lifetime I’ve had pet guinea pigs, axolotls (that’s a Mexican Walking Fish to you), eels, rats, sheep, cows, rabbits and even a horse. However until I met hubby the thought of actually going through the whole human reproductive process was unimaginable and frankly, more than a little repugnant. Yet there I was at 30 years old, with a husband whose biological clock ticked louder than Big Ben, and the realisation that it was Time. I went off the pill and hoped for the year that friends had rumoured it takes for conception to take place but damn! Within a couple of weeks I was peeing on a plastic stick and that terrifying blue cross was as clear as the North Star. I’d been knocked up. Hubby was thrilled and I was petrified. Logical really, he wasn’t the one who would have his body taken over by an alien and then have to eject the thing with as much gore and screaming as Sigourney Weaver in her memorable movie role. At four months pregnant, I decided matters needed to be taken into hand. This state of affairs was not going to ruin my life. I took myself into hand, gave myself a figurative slap in the face (or three) and told myself that this was a good thing, this is what we wanted. We were a family, and by God I would learn to enjoy it. I went out that very day and bought myself a shirt from a preggy shop which I have to this very day. It’s dark blue and in hot pink across the front is the word ‘enjoy’. I remember putting it on the next morning and driving to work. When I walked into the lobby through the revolving doors the sun shone down and I said to myself “you will enjoy this if it kills you”. And honest to God, literally from that second onwards, I loved being pregnant. It was the most profound way I have ever forced myself to change, and it happened with a day. I often think of that moment and draw on that experience because I now believe it to be one of the most profound of my life. If I could transform myself from a frightened, reluctant, overwhelmed pregnant person into a confident, joyous, mother-to-be in a day, I could do anything.