Part 19: Being single
Sometimes it’s hard to convey that this is exactly what was wanted and a free decision that I don’t regret and is one of the most wonderful things in my life that I’ve ever done, that I’m insanely happy and this child is not the stopgap for a failed partnership and that there is certainly a gap that I don’t deny at all, and that this gap will remain despite all the anticipation. And then people say that’s very brave and strong and then I laugh and say, well.Then came the moments when I remembered these people, for example when I dragged my shopping bag up to the fourth floor alone in the seventh month, and by now for the third time, because I was no longer allowed to pack the bag so full. And I remembered my hand wiping away when I heard take it easy and don’t overexert yourself. These words came back to me when I nudged my giant suitcase with the super rolls from cab to cab, pointed with two index fingers to my belly and asked to have the thing carried to my apartment after the ride and then heard: Back, arthritis, no, really not, ask someone else. And I remembered the broken toe. I thought, oh never mind, quickly to bed, sleep once, tomorrow everything would be fine again. Then at night the urge to urinate all pregnant women and throbbing very far down. The first step and ouch. Ouch when stepping in front, ouch at the side and ouch at the heel and the toilet only ten steps away, unreachable however without this one foot. Bouncing, I thought, what does man have two legs for, oh no, forbidden with the baby. I had nothing left but to crawl into the bathroom. Then to the icebox. Not even a cold pack, I reached for frozen pasta. After all. And back. At some point I had learned to pack the contents of my suitcase into smaller bags, to open the suitcase on the first floor and to fill it successively, then to roll it off first, and when I returned home the other way around. The toe had also grown back. Even straight, as if nothing had happened. It went. It really went. What didn’t work, however, were the evenings when the other pregnant women from the yoga class sat down on the sofa with their husbands, let themselves be cooked and had their bellies rubbed. I, on the other hand, quickly stopped at the Asian restaurant. Or when friends got tired and wanted to talk to their sweetheart on the phone before going to bed, or when someone had to leave because the next date was already waiting. Not much helped against that. Drugs, after all, were illegal. Anyway, now I owned a TV again. With integrated DVD player.
