When you mix London with Pregnancy...
Me and my wife had a great afternoon out in London a few days ago courtesy of my fantastic Grandparents. We cashed in a gift from them and pretended to be all civilised by taking afternoon tea in the famous London store that is Harrods. Whilst the trip was enjoyable and the afternoon tea highly recommended, it would be fair to say that London is not pregnancy friendly. Everyone is in their own high speed world, where they take no notice of their surroundings and move at pace in their only gear. The London Underground alone is a hazard all by itself when you're aware of the precious cargo that your wife is carrying. Crowds, escalators, stairs with people rushing by you and shoving for space. A lack of seats and a disappointing lack of people prepared to offer theirs to those more in need. Some people will happily sit in a seat specifically designated for pregnant women or the elderly and not even glance up from their technological device to notice that they're in the wrong.
(The afternoon tea at Harrods really is very good)
I've found it instinctive to feel very protective of your partner and her precious bump throughout her pregnant term. I think it's only natural. That protective instinct in me is only growing stronger at the same rate that her belly is expanding. I hope that it's just as natural, and that I'm not being unreasonable to also keep a watchful eye on her actions. I find myself inwardly (very important to do so inwardly!) questioning if she should do certain things that may harm herself or the baby. Not that my wife is not careful, but as I said, I'm very much aware of just how precious her cargo is. As the partner to a pregnant woman, it is hard to find the right balance. I want to offer extra care and attention, but I don't want to come across as patronising; I do after all trust her judgement and think she is doing a fantastic job. But this is a growing pack, and I'm the pack leader. It is my job to be wary of danger...surely?
London is a busy city, and a worrying place to be with a pregnant wife. Particularly as in every day life alone, I have found protective behaviour rising to the surface of my demeanour. I've found myself eyeing other drivers, being more wary of groups of youths gathered in the supermarket car park, and even been wary of our family dog coming too close at times. On a crowded London Underground network during our afternoon jaunt, I felt like Kevin Costner in the Bodyguard. Everyone was a suspect.
Evolution is a proven theory. Nature takes over and instinct kicks in... not just for the nurturing mother, but for the paternal figure too. Sigmund Freud once said 'I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection'. I just hope that this isn't a sign of things to come. I'm not sure I want to be that overly protective father in years to come.