Last week I was 1 week late.
Usually, well, before I had kids that is, I would panic.
I would start rummaging around for dusty pregnancy tests, feel a strange sense of instant nausea coming on and frantically scan the iPad calendar to check for eligible maternity leave work allowances. But this time, I was actually OK with it.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I will use any, and I mean ANY excuse to get out of work at the moment. But maybe, it’s because I am actually feeling clucky, for the first time in my life. There. I said it. Not Angelina Jolie-clucky. Like I need one to look like me and one to look like him and then one to match all my outfits and bags. Maybe, just like Jennifer Aniston-clucky. Like, there’s nothing too specific to speak of just right now, but maybe in the not too distant future I will put this item at the top of my “to do list”. Plus, this time round, I want to look like Natalie Portman in maternity gear and, I also wouldn’t mind winning a super-glamorous award for all my achievements right before I pop.
My mind was as crowded as the “Nickle Nackle Tree” on a good day, crammed to the brim with comical cartoon-like images of me …..fleeing from the office, forever….. Snuggling in a sunlit, cozy nursery with my glowing toddlers at my feet…… Cuddling with my magnificent newborn…..Inhaling what is hands down the best smell in the world – your own brand new baby’s soft, tiny little head…Staring in wonderment at the magnificent tiny little replica of you nuzzled into your chest and consternating over the wonders of creation.
Then I got my period. My dreams and hopes all dashed in the time it took to work up a killer migraine and crack open a bottle of wine. Two Nurophen Pluses and 250 grams of Cadbury’s chocolate later I was back to my old cynical self. But I couldn’t help wondering how far I’ve come in the last 20 months. Now, not only I had made great progress in reaching the point that:
- I was actually seriously contemplating bringing yet another offspring into this world, but
- I was prepared to go through with “what needed to be done” to create that child, and also
- I was now ‘man’ enough to admit to myself that maybe I really am a good mom and, even more crazy to admit, I might be just a little bit maternal and YES, just a tiny bit clucky.