You know that scene in Jurassic Park when the camera zooms in on a cup of water vibrating in anticipation? Well, at the very end of my pregnancy, my life is very much like a perpetually trembling cup of water. Similar to the T-Rex’s imminent arrival, my baby’s entrance is fast approaching, which is both terrifying and awe inspiring. The scene playing out on repeat in my head may involve fewer pre-historic teeth, but believe me, it’s just as petrifying.

Nobody ever talks about being petrified pre-labour, as though being scared goes against Mother Nature’s intentions for us. I appreciate that childbirth is the most natural endeavour in the world (blah blah blah), but I find it comes naturally to me to order fries with my burger, not concede to mind bending pain. 40 weeks into my pregnancy, I realise I’ve forgotten to become a yogic hypnobirthing guru, exercise my pelvic floor or batch cook healthy frozen meals. I don’t know how to assemble the pram and I thought perineums were flowers? I’m simply not prepared! What on earth have I been doing these last nine months (aside from eating crisps and Googling ‘funny baby faces’)?! I’m not ready and I’m shit scared. There, I said it. (Cue Jurassic Park theme tune – zoom in on cup of shaking water.)

But regardless of your aptitude to Google, can we ever fortify ourselves for life changing events? This last month has taught me that we can never truly emotionally prepare for what life throws at us. Some surprises (like the one that’s kicking my ribs right now) bring soaring joy and wonder, and some bring enough heartache to knock you from your feet.

On the 9th August, we lost a wonderful friend to her almighty battle with cancer. Almighty because like the bravest of warriors she warded off the c-bomb with wit and aplomb, refusing to let illness define her. She was brave whilst never bragging of her strength; she was strong whilst never seeking sympathy or praise; she was a fighter and for a while I thought she might just be invincible. Lucy Booth lived her life to the fullest, overflowing with laughter and love. When I was in the midst of Lupus haze, she’d text me to remind me to sip drinks rather than gulp, and keep a generous store of ginger biscuits. She text me to reassure me that resting doesn’t mean giving up, and it’s ok to admit you’re not infallible. She text me just to tell me that she was thinking of me, and all the while she was enduring the hardest struggle herself. She was someone rather wonderful, an inspiration, and I feel blessed to have known her. The last time we met, we went shopping for baby clothes – life can be so shockingly cruel.

Two days later, we lost another brave woman from our lives – Saint Luke’s dear Nana passed away following a sudden and short illness. The day before her funeral he found a collection of letters she’d written to the loved ones she was leaving behind. The letters detailed practical advice, such as ‘buy a cheap coffin and make sure the priest doesn’t waffle on’, as well as reminders to ‘look after each other, love each other and never hold grudges.’ Nana Beryl also wanted to remind everyone that she hadn’t always been ‘a crabby old woman’ as she describes her wartime childhood steeped in nostalgia, simplicity and charm; a time when she knew nothing of the life that she was yet to lead. And without that spirited woman, who reflected ‘we didn’t have much but we were happy’, there would be no baby growing inside me now – a great grandchild she was but moments away from meeting. Yes, life can be so shockingly cruel.

So I really oughtn’t be petrified of labour because such a blessing is nothing less than magnificent, just as Elton John imparted when he crooned about the circle of life! We all enter the world and somehow, someway, we make our place in it. If we’re very lucky we’ll have made an impact before we leave, just like Nana and Lucy.

I’m ready. I’ll uncross my legs, take off my tights and look forward to meeting our new recruit. You only get to enter into this world just the once my darling baby, so you may as well arrive with a big bang (like the dinos.) Ok. Let’s do this.

Me, Lucy Booth and Betty

Read Lucy’s blog for a lifetimes worth of inspiration!