Being pregnant on public transport destroys and reaffirms my faith in humanity in turn throughout the working week. With the news now out, my ‘baby on board’ badge has been placed firmly on my coat for all to see. This is ironic given how many people on the tube don’t see the badge – or pretend not to see it.
I often have to ask for a seat. Mostly, people are pretty good, although one charmer told me I was being “sexist” because I asked him to stand up, rather than a woman. No, I didn’t get it either. On he blah blah blahed, and he did such an excellent job of making himself look like an arsehat that I didn’t argue back with him but instead thanked him VERY LOUDLY for standing up for me.
The day after that, a kind soul shouted: “WHY IS NOBODY STANDING UP FOR THIS WOMAN? SOMEBODY STAND UP!” before I’d even had a chance to scour for a seat. He wins my Person of the Month Award.
Happily, we’ve hired a doula. A doula looks after you during labour from start to finish. She advocates for your care and will even feed you chocolate biscuits during the birth (probably not right at the end of labour though – even I won’t be thinking about biscuits when I’m quacking my baby right out of my fwa-fwa).
I really liked our doula from the moment we met her. She came to our house for tea and a chat; she was chilled out and fun and even said that I could enjoy labour. A welcome change from all the horror stories people have started feeding me.
What really swung it for me, though, was when she said: “The worst thing you can do is keep still. I’ll make you walk up and down the stairs like a crab before we go to hospital.” Now that did sound like fun.
The moment Wonder Doula left, I messaged her with the crab emoji: “You’re hired!”
The only thing I need to do is give birth before she goes on holiday…