It seems to me that the days before your first child is born are filled with excitement and anticipation. And food, TV, reading, lying down a lot and re-washing things for the baby. You never know, they may not yet be absorbent enough.
You take new pleasure in noting the weather and which trees still have leaves and wondering what your child’s date of birth might be. Well, we missed 1/11/07, but there are some other lovely ones coming up.
You occasionally remember that others are going to work, but that it is your duty to rest and eat and drink, and eventually you stop feeling guilty about this and indulge.
I feel rather like Mole in Wind in the Willows, discovering a whole new pace to life. I do everything. Extremely. Slowly. The days scull past.
(Mole, I feel, should probably have featured in an earlier post about literary sidekicks, but I’ll leave that thought there).
I do like to keep in touch with the world around me, and this is very possible with broadband and televisual technology available to me. For example, I have been learning why Papworth hospital (where dad was given stents) is suspending all heart transplant operations for the next couple of weeks. It sounds drastic, but it may not affect many, if any, of these highly specialised operations. The statistics sound worse on TV because the numbers are so small. Maybe the press coverage will give much needed attention to the need for more organ donors.
Let it be known here that I intend any and all of my organs to be used for medical purposes on my death. I cannot see why it should be any other way.