By PIA CAREEDY
There is a curious stage about halfway through a pregnancy. Somewhere in the middle, after the vomit train drops you off outside Trimester 1, but before you board the panic bus of Trimester 3.
You’ve made it through the first nauseating months in a headspin of disbelief, Disneyland level excitement, and worry. Lots of worry.
We’re really having a BABY / God I’m getting fat / Everything smells like garlic / Are there any good pregnancy Apps? / Mountain Buggy vs Maclarens / Col-o-strum….that is a weird word / Must write a will.
You’re prepared for the upcoming opening of T3: The Final Countdown. Wise women who’ve gone before you warn of nausea’s return, with the panic set to 11. You anticipate it will go something like this:
Oh holy hell a baby is ACTUALLY coming / Please just don’t get any bigger / Too many bibs…I have purchased too many bibs / This house is a hazard for soft skulls, let’s move / Get it out get it out get it out.
But for now, around the halfway mark, there is a period of calm. This magical stage is akin to the eye of the storm. An eerie stillness rolls in and you make peace with all that has passed, and whatever will be.
In movie-making, they call it the Golden Hour. As the sun moves below the horizon, light diffuses and washes everything on earth in a glorious pink glow.