Shopaholic & Baby
Page 44
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“Sorry?” He raises his head from the FT.
“The Olympics! Imagine if the baby wins a gold medal at something. And we’ll be its parents!” I look at him for a reaction. “Won’t it be great? We’ll be so proud!”
My mind is totally seized by this idea. I can totally see myself at the stadium in 2030 or whenever, being interviewed by Sue Barker, telling her how I knew my child was destined for greatness, even from the womb.
Luke appears a bit bemused.
“Becky…have I missed something? What makes you think our child will win an Olympic gold?”
“It might! Why shouldn’t it? You have to believe in your children, Luke.”
“Ah. Fair enough.” Luke nods and puts his paper down. “So, which sport did you have in mind?”
“The long jump,” I say after some thought. “Or maybe the triple jump, because it’s less popular. It’ll be easier to win a gold.”
“Or wrestling,” suggests Luke.
“Wrestling?” I look at him indignantly. “Our child’s not doing wrestling! It might hurt itself!”
“What if its destiny is to become the world’s greatest-ever wrestler?” Luke raises his eyebrows. For a few moments I’m flummoxed.
“It’s not,” I say at last. “I’m its mother and I know.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Brandon?” The receptionist calls over and we both look up. “Dr. Carter will see you now, if you’d like to go through.”
I feel a flurry of nerves. OK, here I go. Stake my claim.
“Come on, darling!” I put my arm firmly round Luke’s shoulders and we head down the corridor, me staggering slightly because I’m thrown off-balance.
“Hello, you guys!” Venetia is coming out of her room to greet us. She’s dressed in black trousers and a sleeveless pink shirt cinched with the most fabulous shiny black crocodile belt. She kisses us both on each cheek and I catch a whiff of Chanel’s Allure. “Great to see you again!”
“It’s great to see you too, Venetia,” I say, raising my eyebrow in an ironic if-you-have-any-plans-to-steal-my-husband-you-can-forget-about-them way.
“Marvelous. Come on in….” She ushers us into the room.
I’m not sure she noticed my eyebrow maneuver. I might have to be more obvious.
Luke and I sit down, and Venetia perches on the front of her desk, dangling her Yves Saint Laurent heels. God, she’s got a good wardrobe for a doctor. Or even not for a doctor.
“So. Becky.” She opens her notes and studies them for a moment. “First of all, we have the blood test results back. All your levels are fine…although we might want to watch that hemoglobin. How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling great, thanks,” I say at once. “Very happy, very loving…Here I am, in a wonderful marriage, expecting a baby…and I’ve never felt closer to Luke in my life.” I reach out and grab Luke’s hand. “Wouldn’t you agree, darling? Aren’t we particularly close at the moment? Spiritually, mentally, emotionally, and…and…sexually!”
There. Take that.
“Well…yes,” says Luke, looking slightly stunned. “I suppose we are.”
“That’s lovely to hear, Becky,” Venetia says, giving me a strange look. “Although I was really meaning your own physical state. Any faintness, nausea, that kind of thing?”
Oh, right.
“Er…no, thanks,” I say. “I’m fine.”
“Well, then. Let’s pop you up and we can have a look.” She gestures to the examination table and I obediently get up onto it. “Lie back, make sure you’re comfortable…. Is that a little stretch mark I see?” she adds gaily as I lift up my top.
“A stretch mark?” In horror I grab the metal side-grip and try to struggle up. “I can’t have! I use a special oil every night, and a lotion in the morning, and—”
“Oops, my mistake!” says Venetia. “Just a stray fiber from your T-shirt.”
“Oh.” I collapse in slight posttraumatic shock and Venetia starts feeling my abdomen.
“Although, of course, stretch marks normally appear at the last minute,” she adds conversationally. “So you may still get them. Those last few weeks of pregnancy can be cruel. I see my patients waddling in, desperate for their babies to be out….”
Waddling?
“I’m not going to waddle,” I say with a little laugh.
“I’m afraid you will.” She smiles back. “It’s nature’s way of slowing you down. I always think it’s only fair to give my first-time patients a heads-up on the realities to come in pregnancy. It isn’t all roses and sunshine, you know!”
“The Olympics! Imagine if the baby wins a gold medal at something. And we’ll be its parents!” I look at him for a reaction. “Won’t it be great? We’ll be so proud!”
My mind is totally seized by this idea. I can totally see myself at the stadium in 2030 or whenever, being interviewed by Sue Barker, telling her how I knew my child was destined for greatness, even from the womb.
Luke appears a bit bemused.
“Becky…have I missed something? What makes you think our child will win an Olympic gold?”
“It might! Why shouldn’t it? You have to believe in your children, Luke.”
“Ah. Fair enough.” Luke nods and puts his paper down. “So, which sport did you have in mind?”
“The long jump,” I say after some thought. “Or maybe the triple jump, because it’s less popular. It’ll be easier to win a gold.”
“Or wrestling,” suggests Luke.
“Wrestling?” I look at him indignantly. “Our child’s not doing wrestling! It might hurt itself!”
“What if its destiny is to become the world’s greatest-ever wrestler?” Luke raises his eyebrows. For a few moments I’m flummoxed.
“It’s not,” I say at last. “I’m its mother and I know.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Brandon?” The receptionist calls over and we both look up. “Dr. Carter will see you now, if you’d like to go through.”
I feel a flurry of nerves. OK, here I go. Stake my claim.
“Come on, darling!” I put my arm firmly round Luke’s shoulders and we head down the corridor, me staggering slightly because I’m thrown off-balance.
“Hello, you guys!” Venetia is coming out of her room to greet us. She’s dressed in black trousers and a sleeveless pink shirt cinched with the most fabulous shiny black crocodile belt. She kisses us both on each cheek and I catch a whiff of Chanel’s Allure. “Great to see you again!”
“It’s great to see you too, Venetia,” I say, raising my eyebrow in an ironic if-you-have-any-plans-to-steal-my-husband-you-can-forget-about-them way.
“Marvelous. Come on in….” She ushers us into the room.
I’m not sure she noticed my eyebrow maneuver. I might have to be more obvious.
Luke and I sit down, and Venetia perches on the front of her desk, dangling her Yves Saint Laurent heels. God, she’s got a good wardrobe for a doctor. Or even not for a doctor.
“So. Becky.” She opens her notes and studies them for a moment. “First of all, we have the blood test results back. All your levels are fine…although we might want to watch that hemoglobin. How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling great, thanks,” I say at once. “Very happy, very loving…Here I am, in a wonderful marriage, expecting a baby…and I’ve never felt closer to Luke in my life.” I reach out and grab Luke’s hand. “Wouldn’t you agree, darling? Aren’t we particularly close at the moment? Spiritually, mentally, emotionally, and…and…sexually!”
There. Take that.
“Well…yes,” says Luke, looking slightly stunned. “I suppose we are.”
“That’s lovely to hear, Becky,” Venetia says, giving me a strange look. “Although I was really meaning your own physical state. Any faintness, nausea, that kind of thing?”
Oh, right.
“Er…no, thanks,” I say. “I’m fine.”
“Well, then. Let’s pop you up and we can have a look.” She gestures to the examination table and I obediently get up onto it. “Lie back, make sure you’re comfortable…. Is that a little stretch mark I see?” she adds gaily as I lift up my top.
“A stretch mark?” In horror I grab the metal side-grip and try to struggle up. “I can’t have! I use a special oil every night, and a lotion in the morning, and—”
“Oops, my mistake!” says Venetia. “Just a stray fiber from your T-shirt.”
“Oh.” I collapse in slight posttraumatic shock and Venetia starts feeling my abdomen.
“Although, of course, stretch marks normally appear at the last minute,” she adds conversationally. “So you may still get them. Those last few weeks of pregnancy can be cruel. I see my patients waddling in, desperate for their babies to be out….”
Waddling?
“I’m not going to waddle,” I say with a little laugh.
“I’m afraid you will.” She smiles back. “It’s nature’s way of slowing you down. I always think it’s only fair to give my first-time patients a heads-up on the realities to come in pregnancy. It isn’t all roses and sunshine, you know!”
