This morning I awoke at exactly 4h00.
It’s not entirely uncommon that I am awake around that time.
But to awaken at exactly 4h00.
On 30th March.
The body remembers.
Nineteen years ago, at that very moment, I woke up.
I needed the loo. As in to poo.
And I knew. Because late pregnancy does things to the digestive capacities.
And on my sample of now three pregnancies, I knew this is what my body did.
Okay – it’s time to have this baby.
I woke Mike, and said, “It’s time – the baby is coming”.
We were out of the front door by 4h10, having scribbled a note to Nicolette, our au pair, saying we had gone to hospital, and would she please just take Ben to school as normal, and Megan to the day care, maman du jour, Elyane. Ben was just coming up to 5 years old, and Megan was just coming up to being 3. And I had just turned 37, days before.
We arrived at the hospital in Annemasse at 4h45. Mike had to drop me off because he couldn’t park quickly and I knew I had to get inside fast.
I had called ahead, because by golly did this team know I had my babies fast.
They didn’t even check me, or check me in. I went straight down to the delivery room and got on the couch.
And some minutes later Mike walked in.
And a couple of pushes later, there was Julia.
Exactly an hour after I had woken up in Sergy, 40 kilometres away.
All dark spikey hair with blonde tips.
As though she had been to the hair salon, and just had an expensive touch up of her highlights.
But no longer here.
Not 19 today as I would so love her to be.
Not celebrating her Spring birthday.
Just memories now.
For me, and my body.