With a deep sigh, Jo eased herself into the empty seat. Taggers had scored the glass on the windows so deeply that it was pointless trying to look at the buildings flashing past. She felt strange taking the seat near the door. Her mother had always told her it was for old people. But with 8 and ½ months gone of a difficult pregnancy Jo took whatever concessions she could get.
Today’s train trip into the city was as much about getting out of the house as it was about getting a Christmas present for her mum. It had been a hot and horrid week. A broken air conditioner, a broken car and a broken television had all combined to put Jo and her mum at each other’s throats. Jo needed a change of scenery and her mum needed a change of company. Jo had needed to get out.
“What are you hoping for?”, came the words. After a moment Jo realised that the words had been spoken to her. She looked up to see a man sitting on the seat at a right angle next to her. An older fellow. Harmless enough looking she thought. “What are you hoping for” he asked again. This time pointing with a shaky hand to her bulging belly. “A baby of course!” she said, with a shy grin to take any sting out of her reply. “Good for you, said the old fellow. “Good for you”. The train slowed and he slowly levered himself to his feet and walked towards the door before they could talk any more.
“What are you hoping for?” What a question! She looked down at the floor. Hope or not she WAS going to have a baby. That was as inevitable as gravity. But she realized that throughout her entire pregnancy she hadn’t really considered whether she would have a girl or a boy. The first 3 months she had been so sick that she hadn’t done much thinking about anything. Her boyfriend had gone off to Melbourne with promises to “be in touch”. Her circle of girlfriends had all become busy amongst themselves. Her mum had gotten all busy and practical and had made her life difficult by getting her off of cigarettes, alcohol and junk food and onto something a lot healthier. She only really thought of the baby as an “It”. Something that got in the way. Got in the way of having fun. Got in the way of making choices. Got in the way of driving. Got in the way of feeling well.
She realised then that she had been hoping for this to be over. She wasn’t hoping for a new beginning. She had been hoping for all her inconveniences, her problems, her pain, to be ended.
Then she felt a twitch and a sudden… wet turning inside.. “What was she hoping for?” The question disappeared as she grabbed her mobile and started to scan the train for some one to help. It answered on the third ring. “Mum, its beginning!”
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bubbles?