Yesterday I had the great adventure of going into London. I wanted to tell everyone all about it.
The day started off with me getting on the bus and the driver not having any change. A scruffy looking guy paid for my single fare. I was so grateful! Note to self: do a good deed today to pay the kindness forward.
At the Chafford Hundred station I dropped my sunglasses and a businessman picked them up for me. I thought about my prayer the night before, “Please help people be nice to me when I travel tomorrow.” Or do I still look pregnant and these are sympathy acts?
On the train after a few stations a girl sat next to me. Her hair was thick and long to her waist, AND it smelled bad. I could smell her scalp. I was glad when she moved over and someone else sat next to me.
At West Ham I changed trains and bumped into my old friend Bruno! He patted my belly with awe (only for a second). It must feel amazing for people to touch a pregnant woman’s bump thinking about the life growing inside. The miracle of the whole process and the quiet hope they might feel that life moving under their fingertips. Then the woman has to break that beautiful thought by saying, “I had my baby almost 3 weeks ago.” and suddenly realising the absence of that special life and that the bump is the woman’s guts flobbing out. It was so nice to see Bruno! Made me smile.
On the Jubilee line a bunch of girls sat on the floor in short dresses with their legs open. I couldn’t help but notice how many men were trying to be sneaky looking over at them. The girls kept asking the same question over and over again, “where are we getting off?” and then they broke out into a shamelessly loud song. They were cool.
Had to change trains again and on this one I ended up sitting in front of an old work colleague from centuries ago. She blanked me so I went to sleep. She must still be mad that I un-friended her on facebook.
Everywhere I went there was a girl touching her chest. That was me. They felt like bricks! Why does my body make enough milk for ten kids? I hurt! I probably looked as miserable as my fellow commuters.
Finally at the embassy- the whole reason for my trip- was quick and uneventful. Drop in service for passport pick up ends at noon and I got mine at 11:55. My passport picture looks like I just saw a ghost.
As I walked back to the Baker Street station I passed a shop with some big delicious-looking nectarines. My favourite fruit. But I didn’t get any. My legs kept thinking, “go home to babies, go home to babies” and I couldn’t stop them.
At the station I saw two kids about ten years old tossing a tennis ball back and forth. Not a good idea, thought I. The one kid slid to catch the ball and nearly fell off the platform. He caught the ball but he got a serious ear pulling from his mom.
At Tower Hill there was an old man needing directions to the DLR. I showed him where to go. He says, “nice to be shown directions by someone who isn’t English.” I did not understand that comment. Was he being sarcastic? He was English. Anyways, good deed done.
At Fenchurch Street station I saw a poster with Liam Neeson’s new film, Unknown, available at Sainsbury’s. For an older man he is quite good looking yes? I ate MnMs.
Finally back at Chafford Hundred I met up with Emma who came home with me and I was so happy to see my babies again!
London is good fun but I’m happy where I am in life right now. Home with my family. x