Awkward answers to awkward questions
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So this morning as I was wandering back from dropping Z at nursery, my neighbour walked past and we said hello. Then she glanced down at me and before she said it, I knew what she was going to say and in my head I said ‘Pleasedon’tsayitpleasedon’tsayit’ but she said it anyway.
BIG grin and then ‘Oh are you pregnant?!’
No, no I am not and I certainly won’t be wearing this floaty maxi dress again in a hurry but thanks, thanks for asking! Except, really, it’s not thanks for asking. It’s thanks for making me cry as I let myself
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inside, awkwardly replaying my rushed ‘No no not yet but hopefully soon hopefully okay then yes bye now!’ answer over and over in my head, whilst calming down and frowning at my dress.
She doesn’t know it’s been a year and the constant weight of crushed hope is so upsetting. She doesn’t know I have been to see the doctor, and have had tests and will have more. She doesn’t know how hard it is to talk about, and some days I can and others I can’t. She doesn’t know how guilty I feel for being sad about it when we are lucky enough to have
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one beloved son, and so many people have been or are going through much more difficult times than us.
She didn’t mean to be careless, or hurtful and I know sometimes it’s impossible to engage your brain before opening your mouth. It’s happened several times in the last few months, nothing as blunt as this morning, but I’m not going to answer a casual ‘So would you like another one then!?’ with a ‘More than you can possibly know’. And so there’s the awkward pause again before I bluster out a reply and then we both feel embarrassed
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and have to move on.
It’s constantly on my mind, some days it takes over, other times it’s just there like a persistent flutter, The Situation I Have No Power Over and Cannot Predict. Though there are supplements and Matcha tea and acupuncture and Pilates and being conscious of every occasional drink, every run. I don’t know how long this wait will be; each and every baby is a tiny miracle. It’s easy to forget that when they are screaming at 3am and you haven’t slept properly in months and you smell faintly of sick, but there you go.
I
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see strangers carrying their tiny babies and sometimes it physically hurts. Meanwhile, news of friends’ pregnancies and new arrivals simply make me beam, I am thrilled for them and lucky enough to know their joy and I know – I hope – one day it will be our turn again.
I hope I don’t see my neighbour again for a while. Next time, I’ll be sure to breathe in.
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SARAH TOPPING - 18 Jul 16
So this morning as I was wandering back from dropping Z at nursery, my neighbour walked past and we said hello. Then she glanced down at me and before she said it, I knew what she was going to say and in my head I said ‘Pleasedon’tsayitpleasedon’tsayit’ but she said it anyway.
BIG grin and then ‘Oh are you pregnant?!’
No, no I am not and I certainly won’t be wearing this floaty maxi dress again in a hurry but thanks, thanks for asking! Except, really, it’s not thanks for asking. It’s thanks for making me cry as I let myself inside, awkwardly replaying my rushed ‘No no not yet but hopefully soon hopefully okay then yes bye now!’ answer over and over in my head, whilst calming down and frowning at my dress.
She doesn’t know it’s been a year and the constant weight of crushed hope is so upsetting. She doesn’t know I have been to see the doctor, and have had tests and will have more. She doesn’t know how hard it is to talk about, and some days I can and others I can’t. She doesn’t know how guilty I feel for being sad about it when we are lucky enough to have one beloved son, and so many people have been or are going through much more difficult times than us.
She didn’t mean to be careless, or hurtful and I know sometimes it’s impossible to engage your brain before opening your mouth. It’s happened several times in the last few months, nothing as blunt as this morning, but I’m not going to answer a casual ‘So would you like another one then!?’ with a ‘More than you can possibly know’. And so there’s the awkward pause again before I bluster out a reply and then we both feel embarrassed and have to move on.
It’s constantly on my mind, some days it takes over, other times it’s just there like a persistent flutter, The Situation I Have No Power Over and Cannot Predict. Though there are supplements and Matcha tea and acupuncture and Pilates and being conscious of every occasional drink, every run. I don’t know how long this wait will be; each and every baby is a tiny miracle. It’s easy to forget that when they are screaming at 3am and you haven’t slept properly in months and you smell faintly of sick, but there you go.
I see strangers carrying their tiny babies and sometimes it physically hurts. Meanwhile, news of friends’ pregnancies and new arrivals simply make me beam, I am thrilled for them and lucky enough to know their joy and I know – I hope – one day it will be our turn again.
I hope I don’t see my neighbour again for a while. Next time, I’ll be sure to breathe in.
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Sarah Topping is a freelance creative copywriter at Playing with Words and former copywriter at Penguin Children's. Her clients include Pottermore from J.K. Rowling, Enid Blyton Entertainment, BBC Worldwide, Puffin Books and World Book Day. Sarah lives in London with her husband Adam and their sons Zachary and Jonah, who rock (and rule) their world.
In between freelancing, she writes children’s stories and blogs about motherhood in all its guises, from the magic and joy to the potty training, tantrums and tripping over toys (pass the wine!).
@SarahTopping3
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