
I quite fancied having a Halloween baby. I imagined her as a new-born pink little thing lying inside a pumpkin for pictures. And oh, the skeleton onesies, the baby zombie costumes! The fabulous birthday parties we could throw her later on, both Jo and I also dressing up, the fake blood and spiders and weird treats. We could invite her whole class and make the flat into a haunted house!
So I tried my hardest to relax on the day and even used my special birth-inducing Lush bath bomb, but Halloween came and went.
Fine, I thought, November 1st is a holiday in Belgium, that would be fun too, she’d always be off school for her birthday. Or the 3rd, she’d be a due date baby. Or hey, the 5th is Guy Fawkes Night in the UK, bonfires and candied apples and fireworks plus rebellion, I bet she’d love that! I went to a special yoga class the night before, ate a whole pineapple, and bounced on my yoga ball trying to get things going. But… nothing happened. No baby.
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