Ruminate (v.) – To think deeply about something
I’d been out most of the morning, walking around the streets trying to get my head together. It was pointless staying in bed and attempting to get some sleep. I’d spent the night tossing and turning as Ben punctuated the air with drunken snores next to me.
Glancing at my phone, I realised that he should be on his way by now. I’d left a note asking him to meet me at the Opera House at midday. I turned off the main street and wandered down a path cut through what looked like it used to be a churchyard. The overhanging trees on each side seemed to meet and fuse in the middle over my head, forming a ceiling of leaves with sunlight shining through. A boy with bright blond curls, wearing red shorts and a blue t-shirt with a dinosaur on the front, was walking along and holding his dad’s hand, zigzagging in my direction.
‘Hey, Noah, watch out of the way of that lady,’ his shaven-headed dad said, giving me an apologetic ‘you-know-what-they’re-like’ type of smile.
‘We’re getting sicks!’ Noah said, planting himself at my feet and looking up at me with enormous blue eyes framed by pale blond, almost white, eyelashes.
‘Oh,’ I said slowly. ‘Cool.’
His dad ruffled Noah’s hair, making the curls glint golden under the sunlight. ‘He means sticks.’
I smiled politely and went to step around the pair of them when I felt a pull on the bottom of my top. Noah had a small pudgy hand grasped around some of the material.
‘Do you have any sicks?’ he asked.
His dad shook his head in mirth. ‘Noah, let the lady get on her way. Sorry about him, he has an eye for the ladies.’
I smiled and then squatted down to the same height as Noah and his mesmerising eyes. I wondered what colour eyes our baby would have. The thought gripped me tightly in my stomach.
‘What are you getting sticks for?’ I asked him.
He looked up at his dad, squeezing his brow tightly as if trying to remember.
‘Have you forgotten already?’ His dad laughed.
Noah shook his head after a long pause. Just seeing this small human, this person created by two people probably as normal as Ben and me, a collection of cells and DNA and love and personality and a soul, which was currently developing in my womb right at this moment, who would eventually turn out to be a child in front of another stranger, I felt a flip of excitement. We had done something pretty awesome in making a baby – sharing half of ourselves to create a whole new character, was ruddy incredible when you thought about it.
‘We’re going on an adventure,’ Noah eventually remembered and grinned at me proudly.
‘Oh, is that so?’ I smiled and glanced up at his dad. ‘An adventure, eh?’
Noah nodded and placed his arms against his small tummy, sticking it out proudly.
‘Well, I saw some sticks back where I just came from.’ I pointed up the path. ‘They would be perfect for your adventure.’
Standing to full height again, I said goodbye as Noah took his dad’s hand once more and excitedly scampered off to find the promised sticks. I closed my eyes for a second and inhaled the heady air of the woods, the scent of perfumed flowers, cut grass and the warming breeze, and made my decision. I was about to go on my own adventure too.
Being pregnant and having a child didn’t have to mean the end of the world. I felt foolish for being so dramatic. It just meant things would change again. It was the start of a new life, not just one for the baby, but for Ben and me too. The initial shock had died down slightly and in its place was this buzzing anticipation for the start of something exciting about to happen. Adjustments would have to be made, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I’d managed to grow up in every other area of my life – this would just be the biggest test of them all. Being pregnant gave me nine months, well, slightly less than that, to get my shit together. It was like the ultimate deadline to prepare myself for the future and focus on another human being. It might take time to adjust to being a mum, but surely I could be a mum and still be Georgia? Travel didn’t have to be totally forgotten about, just altered slightly. If I had to learn how to ask whether the cheese is pasteurised in another language, or avoid travel to places prone to malaria, Zika virus, Ebola virus and other terrifying diseases, then so be it. I was only going to fail at being a mum if I set myself unrealistic expectations of what a mum should do.
I just had to get Ben on board.
*
Walking around Circular Quay was like no other place on earth. Apart from the happy smiling locals and the excitable tourists, there’s the view that totally sucks you in. The imposing steel of the Harbour Bridge on one side crossing the gently lapping water, and then the iconic white sails of the Sydney Opera House on the other. It was a view you could never get tired of seeing. Ferries and smaller boats chugged lazily across the waves as tourists took selfies with the two impressive landmarks. Winding my way through crowds gathered to watch street performances – Aboriginal men playing didgeridoos and young lads balancing footballs on their noses – I padded up the promenade to the steps of the Opera House.
It’s actually a lot smaller close up than I’d imagined. The segments of an orange style sails domed over like silver containers you find at all-you-can-eat buffets. A grinning family were doing the peace sign in every photograph they could possibly fill their phone memory with, and nearby a group of older tourists were being told about the design of the building and how it took sixteen years to finish. The late-morning sunshine on the harbour water sparkled like a hundred paparazzi bulbs going off under the surface.
Ben was already waiting on the steps as I walked up. Even with a hangover he still looked bloody gorgeous. His face creased into a wide smile as he saw me.
‘Hey, you.’
‘Hey, yourself, how’s the head?’
‘Surprisingly not too bad. It must have been all that water you were feeding me.’
I smiled, surprised he’d remembered that.
‘Anyway, where did you run off to this morning?’
‘Oh, I just wanted to get some fresh air.’
‘Ah.’ He gave a knowing smile. ‘Feeling a little delicate yourself, are we?’
I forced myself to laugh. ‘Something like that. Shall we go and grab a drink?’ I started to walk off and realised he wasn’t following me. ‘You okay?’ I turned back, wondering what the hold-up was.
‘Yeah!’ he said, a little too brightly. ‘I just thought it would be nice if we took a photo first, seeing as we both finally made it here.’ He rummaged in his pocket for his phone.
‘Oh right, you want to use mine?’ I asked.
‘No! I mean, no thanks, I’ll take it. I swore it was in here.’ He patted down his pockets. ‘Ah, got it,’ he said, pulling his phone out. ‘Right, let me ask someone to take a nice photo of us both.’
‘Can we not just get a selfie?’
It was sweet that he was trying to be romantic, but my head was swimming with what I needed to tell him and this was just delaying the inevitable. However Ben had wandered off and was looking purposefully around. There were plenty of people to ask but he acted as if he was searching for someone in particular.
‘Wait here a sec!’ he said, and jogged down the steps to a man who was pushing a small food cart selling ice cream and sugary pastries.
I sighed and dropped to sit on the warm stone step, placing a hand in front of my eyes to shield them from the sun, enjoying the heat spreading on my face. I was too busy basking like a contented house cat, I barely heard Ben call out that he was ready and needed me to come over there for the photo. I flicked my head and spotted him deep in conversation with the man working at the food stall. They were both pointing further up the steps, probably planning where best to take this photo he was so eager to get.
‘You ready, babe?’ Ben asked, as I walked over to him. He was sweating slightly and wringing his hands together. Why did he look so nervous? I was the one who had to break this bombshell.
Okay, deep breath. You can do this. It was now or never.
He was nodding at the bloke at the food cart before flicking his face back to me. ‘I reckon that’s a good spot, over there!’
‘Ben?’
‘Do you reckon that works?’ he was saying to the impromptu photographer.
‘Ben, you’re not listening to me,’ I said, more firmly. ‘I need to tell you something.’
‘Come on, we don’t have much time.’ He was trying to get me to move and head over to have this bloody photo taken.
‘This is important,’ I snapped. He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the dark brown curls. Wait – was he making some hand signal to the man who was going to take our photo? What was going on?
‘And so is this …’
He dropped to one knee and pulled out a ring box.
Oh my God, he was proposing!
‘Georgia Louise Green,’ he began. ‘I have loved you since the moment I met you—’
‘Wait!’ Ben looked up, a flash of fear on his face that I was about to say no. ‘I’m pregnant,’ I blurted out.
‘You’re pregnant?’ I thought his eyeballs were at risk of snapping from the optic nerve and rolling across the concrete. Not an inch of his body moved as he waited for my answer. I was about to say something when the man he’d given his phone to sheepishly walked over.
‘Shall I take it now?’ he asked Ben, holding the phone up to take a photo. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it.
‘Err, no, it’s fine thanks, mate,’ Ben said on autopilot, taking his phone back as the man jogged down the steps.
‘You’re really pregnant?’ he repeated, still not moving, still on a bended knee.
I nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Like, pregnant, pregnant?’ he uttered, remembering to blink and take a breath as I nodded again. ‘Oh, shit, I mean, oh …’ He trailed off.
‘Here, sit down.’ I crouched down and pulled him to join me on one of the steps, his legs looking like they might give way on him.
He placed his head in his hands and rubbed his face roughly. I was willing him to wrap his arms around me, to tell me that it was all going to be okay, but he stayed in that same hunched-over position, as if he should have a brown paper bag to suck air through.
‘Ben?’ I asked, after what felt like an eternity of silence.
‘How do you feel?’ he asked, eventually facing me. The colour had drained from his face and he was biting his lower lip so hard I thought it would start bleeding.
I fidgeted. ‘A little bit nauseous, but it’s not as bad as I’ve been reading that other women have it.’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I mean, how do you feel about us having a baby?’
‘Well, it was a shock and—’
‘How long have you known?’
‘A few days.’ I felt bad that it seemed like I was totally fine with this when inside I was still panicking as much as he looked like he was. ‘Ben, are you all right?’ I asked softly. Please give me a hug, please stroke my hair and realise this is the biggest shock to me too, I willed him.
‘Yeah, err, yeah,’ he said slowly. He was lying; of course he wasn’t all right. This was huge. He also forgot that I knew him well enough by now. I knew that his chin wobbled ever so slightly when he was not telling the truth. How do you expect a guy to react to the news that you’re expecting a baby that you weren’t expecting?
‘I completely lost my shit too when I found out,’ I admitted. ‘I’m still freaking out right now.’
‘Really?’ He shot his head up. ‘You are?’
I nodded and smiled gently at him. He looked as terrified as I felt. ‘Yeah, but I’ve had a few days’ start on you.’ I held his clammy hand. ‘I just didn’t know how to break it to you, especially when you don’t want children.’
‘What?’ He straightened up and puffed his chest out. ‘I do want children! I just thought you didn’t.’
I pulled back and looked at him funny. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Well, when you came back from Marie’s you were pretty adamant that kids weren’t for us at all.’
I thought about that evening, how knackered I’d been, and how all I’d done was moan about the children. ‘Really? So from that you thought kids were off the agenda for us?’
‘Well, I know in the past we’ve joked about kids’ names but never really had the chat. Then you seemed so traumatised after looking after Cole and Lily, I figured you were trying to tell me that you didn’t want a family of your own.’ Both of us had totally got the wrong end of the stick.
‘Why did you say you didn’t want to be a dad when Johanna asked you about it at the restaurant that time?’
‘For you! I didn’t want you to be interrogated and have to defend your desire to stay childless. It’s much easier for a guy to say that than it is a woman.’
I started to laugh. ‘Well, Mr Stevens, I do want children, I always have done, I just didn’t know when. Everyone says there’s no right time to have them and with the business expanding and the move to London . . .’ I paused. ‘We may not be ready and this may not be the perfect time, but when would it ever be the perfect time? We already lead such busy lives, maybe this will force us to slow things down a little!’ Ben kissed my forehead. I noticed that his eyelashes were wet. ‘You do want it, don’t you?’
‘Do I want to be the father of your child?’ he spluttered. ‘Hell yeah!’
I laughed and let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding. ‘This will change everything, you know?’
‘I know.’
‘Like, everything. My body, our jobs, our social life, our relationship, our sex life.’
That last one made him pause. ‘I don’t care, I’m ready.’
I looked up. ‘Really?’
‘Really,’ he said decisively. ‘I also still want you to be my wife.’
‘You’re not just doing this because you’ve knocked me up?’
He shook his head, laughing. ‘Georgia. I’ve wanted to do this for months.’
‘Sorry. Carry on.’ I grinned at him.
He took a deep breath and dropped back down to one knee. ‘Georgia Louise Green. I have loved you since I met you. You will never know how happy you make me and how wonderful you actually are. In a way, that is what I love most about you. You are clumsy and hot-headed and passionate and sometimes drive me mad, but I need you to challenge me, to make me a better person and I am so grateful to get to call you mine.’
Tears pricked my eyes; my breath was caught in my throat.
‘So, will you do me the greatest honour of marrying me?’
‘Yes!’ I squealed as he got to his feet and spun me round. A crowd I hadn’t noticed had built nearby, watching the show, and the smiling audience began to clap.
‘You don’t think Shelley will mind?’ I whispered, admiring the ring he placed on my trembling finger. It was incredible.
‘Pfft, her wedding was yesterday. Now this is all about you.’ He glanced at my tummy. ‘Well, us.’
I couldn’t let go of him; strangers were coming up to shake our hands and share the photos they’d taken of the moment. I was being passed a tissue for my streaming eyes and running nose as I kept laughing at the fact this had actually happened. I don’t think I’d ever felt this happy before.
‘Right, Champagne!’ he suggested, taking my hand and kissing it firmly. ‘Oh, sorry, shit. You can’t drink!’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t need alcohol to give me a buzz.’
We wandered to a bustling coffee shop overlooking the harbour waters.
‘This is beautiful.’ I couldn’t stop looking at the glinting diamond on my finger. ‘I knew you had good taste, but this …’
‘I may have had a little help,’ he admitted. ‘Marie. But, actually, I found this one when she wasn’t with me. I just asked for her advice on the style you might like, but I chose it all on my own.’
‘Well, you did an excellent job.’ I grinned, reaching up to kiss him and never wanting to let go.