by MIA FREEDMAN
I’m feeling very nostalgic when I watch the Olympics. Last time around, in 2008, I was lying in a hospital bed during the opening ceremony. As my husband calmly munched banana bread and gazed at the screen above my bed, I made strained small talk with the large man trying to insert an epidural needle into my spine.
“IS IT IN YET?” I gasped between contractions?
“Yep!” he declared.
And within moments, life was good again.
The next few hours passed peacefully with the midwife, myself and my husband all watching the athletes march around the stadium.
As I pushed my third child out into the world, the TV (muted by this time so I could concentrate on my obstetrician and midwife’s instructions) remained on in the background.
In the two weeks that followed, as my baby and I got to know each other, the Olympics were ever present. I based myself in bed for much of the time, cosy and warm, away from the world and as we dozed and he fed, I watched a lot of sport.
So I can’t stop thinking of that time now as I immerse myself again in sports I haven’t even thought about in 4 years like beach volleyball, gymnastics, diving and swimming.
It’s like a snapshot into your life thinking about where you were during the Olympics. Some of them (Sydney) shine brightly in my mind while others (Athens? Atlanta?) are a little foggy.
But the Beijing Oylmpics were hugely significant and I will forever associate Usain Bolt with breastfeeding.
Where were you in your life during last Olympics? Do the Olympics remind you of a particular moment in time?
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