A fragile peace

The baby is in bed. How long that will remain the case demand to be seen. She has just discovered walking and the limitless possibilities that brings. Waddling across the tiny living room,a great expedition to such a small person, brings the reward of being able to throw herself like a rugby player into the dog’s bed forcing him to sprawl across the carpet with an expression of one greAtly affronted. The small, uninspiring house feels crowded already and the practicLitiez of squeezing another busy little being into it feels impossible. The man of the house sits watching sport on the telly, stubbornly silent on the question of whether he will stay and tolerate both of his offspring Or leave and be a sheepish weekend father. Things look gloomy and yet I find myself wondering about the back ache I have. Is it worse than with the last pregnancy? Have i become so elderly that my bones are crumbling? Or is it the start of a miscarriage? And if it is, how do I feel? Relieved? I should, life with 2 would be so much more stressful, financially crippling. But I can’t feel releieved, only vaguely anxious and strangely sad.