Sh*t! I forgot to play Mozart for my baby
I woke up today, nine days from my due date, and realised something: I forgot to play Mozart for my baby in utero. In fact, after watching a production of The Producers last week, I found myself singing “Springtime for Hitler” to her in the shower this morning. Is this a sign of my future parenting ethos?
We also couldn’t seem to stick to our resolution to read the same bedtime story to Abdul every night. James read The Gruffalo a few times, but as he said, “I got bored of the story.” Ha ha. Just you wait, James.
Both of these techniques are supposed to be beneficial for the baby, to be used as calming strategies after birth. And the Mozart thing is supposed to increase IQ or something like that. Have I cost Abdul valuable brain cells?
I also didn’t eat enough green vegetable in the second trimester. Arrrggghhhh!
I believe I am starting to experience the onset of motherly guilt and worry that will be a steadfast part of my life from now on. The pregnancy has introduced me to a whole new level of anxiety. Not a day has gone by since that fateful moment in September when James and I realised we had finally succeeded that I haven’t worried about the baby. And, from what I understand, it doesn’t stop when you finally get to hold the bubba in your hot little hands. In fact, it gets worse.
What I could probably use right now is a stiff drink. But I suppose some vitamin-enhanced fruit juice would do, too. Better for the baby, after all.
Aside from my little counter now saying “9 days”, I think that this sudden worry bubble has been created by the fact that the first of the eight women in my NCT class has had her baby. It’s coming. It’s coming fast. And it’s coming soon.
Watch this space.