TWENTY-FIVE
Custom-Made Maternity Shoes & Good Enough Mums
Tessa - 26 Weeks
It’s late on Tuesdayevening, and I’m sitting in bed cropping and adjusting the colours on the photos forThe Weekly Observer’sfeature. I hum to myself, genuinely happy to be working on a project I hope will make a real difference. Plus, it’s giving me a break from feeling ticked at my husband, the ‘fish swapper.’
Although, I have to say my righteous anger has dissipated a fair bit in the past two weeks. I hate to admit it, but he may actually have done us a favour because the whole incident has led to a real meeting of the minds when it comes to child-rearing. So if nothing else, Chester didn’t die in vain, because we’re making sure to apply what we’ve learned for the sake of our unborn children.
Plus, Arthur found the most amazing way to make it up to me. He noticed that my feet are too swollen to fit into any of my shoes, so he had my five favourite pairs reproduced in ‘maternity sizing’ (meaning much wider—much, much wider). Now, please don’t think my silence can be bought by fabulously comfortable pairs of gorgeous (if not slightly oddly proportioned) shoes—because it really was all of the open discussions we’ve been having that has me almost smiling.
All right, fine. It’s also because of the shoes, dammit. What? Is it so wrong to want fab footwear when you’re as big as a house?
Anyway, back to the project because it really is wonderful. The photos turned out much better than I thought even, giving me dozens of terrific shots of each of the models I rounded up from Dr. Dropp’s office. They all look absolutely lovely and filled with pride to be part of something like this. It’s like those Dove ads, only with exclusively pregnant women. If I had to describe the atmosphere in the room when we did the photo shoot, I’d say, it felt like we were on the cusp of a revolution. Oh, and we were also a really hungry bunch, so the kitchen had to stay on standby. I know it’s not areal revolutionor anything, but I really believe the Good Enough Mum Campaign could be the start of a kinder future.
Arthur, who was at a charity dinner this evening, comes home as I’m putting the finishing touches on one of the photos. I look up from my computer long enough to appreciate how ridiculously handsome he is in his tux, which must mean I’m warming up to him more than I thought. He walks over, stopping to greet Dexter, who has blocked his way.
“You’re still up? I thought you’d be asleep by now?”
“Who? Me or him?”
“You.”
“I’m too excited to sleep.”
"Ah, your secret project. The one that has nothing whatsoever to do with a certain Lady Dr. Brooke Beddingfield Cunningham?"
"That's the one," I say, grinning a little. “I love that you feel no need to force me to actually admit why I started this.”
“See? I'm becoming wiser as the weeks go by.” He walks over, says a big hello to my belly, then gives me a kiss.
“Yes, you are. But to be honest, now that I’m into this, it really isn’t about showing Brooke up. It’s about showing women how beautiful we are.”
“Can I see?” he asks, leaning his head over my laptop.
I hold up one hand to block his view. “Not until it’s done.”
“Fair enough.” He straightens up and pulls off his tie, then starts to undress. “Are you planning to run it by Dylan before you go public with it?”
"There’s really no need,” I say, glancing up at him. When I see the concern on his face, I add, “I know sometimes my attempts at getting good PR don't go quite as planned, but this time it’s different, I promise. I'm about to kill three birds with one stone."
"By killing birds, you don't mean...?"
Rolling my eyes, I say, "Obviously, I'm not planning to actually kill anyone. It's an expression, only instead of killing two birds, I'm being 1.5 times as efficient, resulting in the death of three birds instead of two."
"Brilliant. Well, let me know if you need any help."
“I won’t,” I say with a big smile.
Arthur goes into the en suite to shower, and I sigh happily as I work, glad to be able to do something completely independent of all my handlers and advisers. Rubbing my hand on my belly, I say, “If there’s a girl in there, I want you to know your mum is going to change the world so that when you grow up, people will learn to love themselves and be good to one another. Actually, if you’re boys, you’ll benefit from what I’m doing as well. And you can be there when I get my Nobel Peace Prize. Won’t that be exciting?”
***
"DOESN'T THIS FEEL LIKEold times?" Hazel asks, turning to smile at me.
We’re currently sitting side-by-side at the editor’s desk while we put the final touches on the special edition insert for this Saturday's edition ofThe Weekly Observer. It's a ten-page full colour insert to be printed on magazine quality paper. Each page features two women, introducing them to the world and providing answers to three questions:
What is it about you that makes you beautiful?
