no baby yet

It’s September 1st 2022, just after 6pm. I’m writing in the grey of the gloaming. Outdoors a dogged barking, the tu-tu-tu twitter of the birds, the occasional rush of a car. The trees are still, the sky bruised. Rapidly my surroundings disappear into shadow, the white rectangle of my screen casting me into a shallow pool of muted light. Almost imperceptibly, my laptop hums and sings. Meanwhile, around me, the house breathes gently: the whir of the bathroom fan, a warm current of air, the soft murmurings of the TV. Over my shoulder, through the window, the world has turned black against the yellow of the sky. Time to get up and shut the blinds.

It’s September 1st, 2022. A good ten months since my last post on this site. Tomorrow our baby is due, although it shows no signs of coming yet. And so we wait.

I don’t know if this is a “comeback” post. I have been writing elsewhere, in other forms, and currently I am deep into a really exciting project that takes up most of my writing brain. I’m not sure what lies ahead for this lil blog. But for now let’s put that aside. My freezer is full to bursting, the house never more clean, our baby’s tiny wardrobe washed and folded and tucked away under the cot. My sister and her boyfriend have arrived from the UK on a year-long working holiday visa. After an initial flurry of activity setting them up and showing them around, any reserve of energy I had left feels spent. The past few days have been languid and slow, broken up by wandering from room to room under the reproachful gaze of the dog, who keeps up a constant mournful monologue and keeps peeking his head into cupboards and around doorways, quite sure we are hiding something from him. This evening my body is heavy and tired, my little baby constantly rummaging and poking at the confines of my belly, pushing stretching prodding me as though I were a ball of pizza dough, hooking its foot under my ribs, hiccuping in my pelvis, straining against my bladder and bowel. I place my hand over the bulge in my tummy that will soon be my child, feel it stir and settle underneath. It’s strange to think that from one moment to the next these sensations will all be gone.

There should be a word for this time: the inbetween time, the waiting. It is a strange, restless space, and I wish in my culture there were some ritual, something to guide us over the threshold from one world to the next. I’m excited, and scared, energised, and exhaused. Sometimes I catch myself clenching my fist or jaw, tension in my body somehow disconnected from any conscious thought. If not distracted in coversation or engaged in a task, my brain darts rapidly from one thought to the next: one moment deep into the future, the next years ago in the past. Anywhere but the present. Over the past decade, through medical school and training, I have become so accustomed to making the most of any free window of time that my brain now seems irreversibly programed to offer me every possible way in which I could fill it, conditioned to look for the best possible way to multitask in order to achieve maximum gain. It’s actually – always – very calming just to pause and write.

It’s also been very soothing to read. After the frenzy of the past few months, a mad rush to get everything finished up or handed over at work before going on leave, such a joy to leave the medical world behind me for a while and just let myself get lost in fiction again. I found a great haul of second-hand books at BookMark in Devonport, a few authors new to me that I’d been meaning to track down for a while: Geoff Dyer, Elena Ferrante, John Banville; titles I hadn’t yet read by authors I already knew I enjoyed. I told the lady behind the counter that I was stocking up for after the baby arrived, but secretly I knew I’d devour most of them long before. A while ago, a couple of friends recommended that I get an e-reader: backlit so that you can read without having to turn any lights on, and easy to hold and “turn” the pages with just one hand. I really don’t think it’s something I would ever have considered buying in other circumstances: I love paper books too much and read so fast that I would rapidly spend huge amounts if I didn’t buy most of my books second-hand. But I looked into it because I knew about the library e-book catalogues, which I have occasionally used on my phone, and because I hate doomscrolling but know how easily I would revert to that during baby feeds and naps if I didn’t set myself up with alternative options. And ohmygosh you guys, this has opened up a whole new world to me!! I’ve borrowed and read ten books since I bought this thing two weeks ago, many of which I would have had very little hope of stumbling across in a secondhand bookshop any time soon, or even in physical form in my very small local library. One of the most interesting books I’ve read in a long time, for example: In the Dream House, by Carmen Maria Machado. I read book blogs online and listen to so many book-related podcasts, but I’ve never really been able to track down many of the books or authors that are discussed. This is already changing that for me, and that’s so exciting.

What else should I tell you about? Difficult to know where to start with work after such a long time. When I last wrote an update post I was maybe a month or so into a new job on the Stroke ward. I went into that job knowing that I found the pathology fascinating and hoping so hard that the clinical reality would match up. It was such a wonderfully fulfilling six months, better than I ever could have imagined. I’ve written before about the struggle I’ve had trying to decide which path to take in Medicine: so many things are interesting intellectually, but (for me) it’s always been important to try find a fit within the clinical reality: not too slow-paced, not too full of adrenaline, not too ward-heavy, not too clinic-based, not too repetitive, not too broad-reaching, etc etc. You get the gist. Some people just know, I think, from the outset. For me it’s been a long process of finding the right fit: logical but pragmatic, relaxed but efficient, and so on. And for the first time I felt that I had found my thing.

I followed that job with six months of Palliative Medicine, completely different to anything I’d ever done before. It’s an area of medicine in which I really wanted to feel comfortable and I learnt so much from every member of its team. I feel so grateful to have been working in their midst throughout my pregnancy, I genuinely don’t believe any other department could have supported me better through a time which I found incredibly hard. Funny how life works out sometimes.

Perhaps the most important work update though is that I applied for and got on to my dream training program, so that when I return to work after maternity leave, I have so much to look forward to! I know it’s always confusing when doctors talk about these kind of things: I’ve been fully qualified for years, but when I mention doing exams and completing training I always get asked whether that means I’m not yet done with medical school… (thank god, I am), or somehow not yet a real doctor… (I promise, I am). And it’s not helped by the fact that different countries can do things quite differently, that every country has slightly different vocabulary for different stages of training, that all of these terms are absurd anyway if you pause and take them out of context. Basically, once you finish medical school, you spend a number of years acquiring greater experience in particular areas of medicine. In some countries, such as the UK and New Zealand, you are required to spend a few years working across a range of different areas of medicine (usually in the form of 3-6 month-long jobs=rotations=placements) to get a broad experience before you go deeper into the particular area that interests you. In other countries, such as the US, you just jump straight into that particular field. Either way, you then spend a number of years accruing experience, until you reach the “end” of training: at this point, you should know enough to manage common things in your area of expertise, know who to ask for help for more complex things, know how to manage a team of more junior doctors working for you, etc etc. In reality of course, you never stop training: you’re always improving your skills and knowledge, keeping yourself up-to-date. So the “end” point is somewhat arbitrary and again varies significantly between countries and also medical specialties. I also know from friends that it definitely brings with it a whole new range of stress and challenges. However, if there is a milestone to reach, inevitably you set your sights upon it. So for me what this news actually means is that I’ve finally reached the last stages of my training. Two more core years and then a fellowship, and I will finally have reached the end of my training. How exciting to get to come back to the beginning of this chapter! I really didn’t think I’d have a chance of getting onto the program for a few years yet, so I’m still very much overjoyed and in disbelief.

I’ll wrap this up now – my posts somehow always become longer than I intend. It’s been so long since I last wrote that I couldn’t possibly cover everything that has happened, but I’ve tried to pick photos that convey the overall picture. Still loving those personalised kiwi numberplates, beautiful light and skies, flowers and landscapes. I know I have a (very) small core group of blog readers who were disappointed when I stopped writing and have been asking me for ages when my next post will be: this was for you, I love you, I hope you enjoyed it <3 We’ll see whether life with a baby will allow me to do anything more. In the interim, please send me all your positive thoughts, and know that I’m thinking of you even if I’m out of touch for the next wee while.

-Z x

Things I’m loving / have loved recently: the first signs of Spring (cherry blossom, magnolias, the scent of jasmine in the evening air), acquiring tiny baby clothes, seeing my sister for the first time in THREE years(!), using “nesting” as an excuse to massively declutter, antenatal classes with K, notebooks in OneNote (for organising literally everything I’m interested in – from creative projects to medical notes), long heart-to-hearts, voicenotes, and catch ups with my lil worldwide support network of mummy friends, sweet baby gifts from faraway friends and the most thoughtful lil baby shower at work, the Love Stories podcast by Dolly Alderton and When It Kicks by Jessie Cave, longer sunnier days at last.

Things I’m looking forward to: my baby(!!), being able to lie on my back again, being able to go on proper walks again, first father’s day with K! (baby please come before then!!), maybe? finally?! getting to the point where we can actually plant things in our garden?!, trying to make plans for the rest of my family to visit NZ, – and letting myself finally dream of a trip back to the UK after so many years!!, feeling like less of a heffalump again, being able to see my toes again, walks with baby, cuddles with baby, smoked salmon and alcohol and blue cheese hahaha.

Addit. For those who are wondering – still no baby yet at the time of publication (05/09)! Please send encouragement to come soon!!