Jim and I went to Ikea yesterday. We were just getting to the checkout when I realised that 'it' was about to happen. So we literally dropped everything and drove home.
After days of waiting, it actually only took a minute for it all to be over. Which confused us. We'd waited for and dreaded this moment since I had started bleeding on Friday and yet it just came and went. One minute I was pregnant and the next I wasn't. And we didn't know what to do. So we drove back to Ikea. Seriously. We both just got back in to the car and headed back to buy the fabric and bookshelves that we had decided we desperately needed. We drove back to Ikea and left our hearts sitting in a pot in the bathroom.
This morning we got to work. We didn't discuss whether we were doing the right thing. Or whether we were dealing with it in the right way. Or even if we were physically up to the work. We just got out of bed and started working.
First we built a plain Ikea bookcase. Then we primed it and started painting the three coats of cream satinwood that it would need to cover it's original dullness. We measured and cut and glued beading on to the front edges of the shelves. And we cut and glued vintage Laura Ashley wallpaper to the inside of it. And whilst we waited for coats to dry, I wallpapered one wall of our bedroom with a patchwork of various vintage and new wallpapers.
We didn't stop for lunch or dinner but we did drink a lot of tea and coffee. We spoke to my midwife who was very excited to find that she had me on her books again and then very sad to hear that I no longer needed to be. We spoke to Jim's new employers (he starts a new job next week) who were very kind and said he could delay his starting date. And we spoke to the hospital who managed to make a bad situation worse (god bless the NHS). We spoke to eachother. We spoke to my mom, who wanted to know if the fact that Bella was chasing an industrial lawn mower around the local park was cause for concern.
We worked and watched crap tv. And we got the bookcase made and altered and attached to the wall and filled with books. We worked and got the wall papered and picture frames painted. And finished jobs that have been waiting to be finished for months.
And then I stopped working. And I realised that after denial comes anger. And I hate the wall papered wall and the bookcase looks like shit. And none of it made any fucking difference anyway. And I was actually dumb enough to think that if I just kept busy. If I just kept moving. It wouldn't catch me.
