I press Send. Ha. That’ll wind her up.
“OK. Let’s move on.” Noura is in the center of the room again. “From glancing through these answers, it’s clear that a lot of you are concerned by the thought of labor and how you’ll cope with it.” She looks around the group. “My first response is: don’t worry. You can cope. All of you.”
A nervous laugh goes around the room.
“Yes, contractions can be intense,” Noura continues. “But your bodies are designed to withstand them. And what you must remember is, it’s a positive pain. I’m sure you’ll both agree?” She looks over at Mum and Janice, who has got out her knitting and is clicking away.
“Positive?” Janice looks up, horrified. “Ooh no, dear. Mine was agony. Twenty-four hours in the cruel summer heat. I wouldn’t wish it on any of you poor girls.”
“They have better drugs these days,” chimes in Mum. “My advice is take everything they’ve got.”
“But there are natural, instinctive methods you can use,” Noura puts in quickly. “I’m sure you found that rocking and changing position helped with the contractions?”
Mum and Janice exchange doubtful glances.
“I wouldn’t have said so,” says Mum kindly.
“Or a warm bath?” Noura suggests, her smile tightening.
“A bath?” Mum laughs merrily. “Dear, when you’re gripped by agony and wanting to die, a bath doesn’t really help!”
I can tell Noura’s getting a bit frustrated, by the way she’s breathing more deeply and balling her hands into fists.
“But it was worth it in the end? The pain seemed a small price to pay, compared to the life-affirming joy?”
“Well…” Mum gives me a doubtful glance. “Of course, I was delighted to have my little Becky. But I did keep it at the one child. We both did, didn’t we, Janice?”
“Never again.” Janice shudders. “Not if you paid me a million pounds.”
As I glance around the room I can see that all the girls’ faces have frozen. Most of the men’s too.
“Right!” says Noura, making an obvious effort to stay pleasant. “Well, thank you for those…inspirational words.”
“No trouble!” Janice waves her knitting cheerily.
“We’re going to try a small breathing exercise now,” Noura continues, “which, believe it or not, will help with the contractions of early labor. I want you all to sit up straight and do some shallow breaths. In…out…that’s right….”
As I’m doing my shallow breaths, there’s a ping from my mobile.
What?????
Ha! I stifle a giggle and text back.
Is it love???
A few moments later my phone pings again with a new message.
We’re having a few problems.
Oh God. I hope Jess is OK. I didn’t mean to tease her.
It’s quite tricky, doing shallow breathing and texting at the same time. So I abandon the shallow breathing and type.
What problems? Why didn’t u tell me?
“Who are you texting, love?” says Janice, who has also abandoned shallow breathing and is consulting her knitting pattern.
“Oh…just a friend,” I say lightly as another text arrives. Jess must have abandoned whatever she’s doing too.
I didn’t want to bother you, it’s stupid.
Honestly. How can Jess think she’s bothering me? I want to know about her love life. I start texting U R my sister!!! when Noura claps her hands for attention.
“Relax, everyone. Now, we’re going to try a simple exercise, which should put your minds at rest. Your partner is going to take your arm and twist it, giving you an old-fashioned Chinese burn. And you are going to breathe through the pain. Focus your minds, stay relaxed…. Partners, don’t be afraid to increase the pressure! And you’ll see how you’re a lot tougher than you thought! Becky, I’ll take you, if that’s OK?” she adds, coming over.
My stomach flips nervously. I don’t like the sound of an old-fashioned Chinese burn. Or even a newfangled one. But I can’t wimp out; everyone’s looking at me.
“All right, then,” I say, gingerly holding out my arm.
“Obviously the pain of labor will be more intense than this, but just to give you an idea…”
She grasps my forearm. “Now breathe.…”
“Ow!” I say as she suddenly twists my arm. “Ow, that hurts!”
“Breathe, Becky,” instructs Noura. “Relax.”
“I am breathing! Owwww!”
“The pain’s getting stronger now….” Noura ignores me. “Imagine the contraction is peaking….”
