I hate the word nesting. I don’t mind it being applied to birds in spring because they are actually building nests but when it’s applied to pregnant women it makes me irate. It’s mostly because I don’t want it to be applied to me. The word nesting implies that I have no insight into the hormonal influence of pregnancy on my psychology and am therefore, with great fondness, out of control. Nesting is at the benign end of the same spectrum as phrases like “hysteria” and “phantom pregnancy”. It negates the impact of a huge rite of passage on a woman by dismissing sensible practical preparations she may take as biologically programmed. Most women know that the first few weeks of a baby’s life are pretty hard on the parents so seizing the opportunity of finishing work to cook meals for the freezer and do some DIY on a home you’re going to be seeing the inside of for quite a while is surely just common sense.
Fortunately there’s no risk of the term being applied to me at the moment as all I want to do is sit down and stare blindly into space. However, in an ironic twist, thinking about how annoying I find it did propel me into some frenzied action that might be interpreted as nesting. In fact the real motivation was guilt…
Little Owl has been super throughout this pregnancy. I can’t imagine what she thinks of it all and I hope she can remember that her mum has not always been an enormous swollen vomiting grumpy monster. She has been sweet and patient, terms not often applied to a just turned five year old. So, I decided to make her a house…and here it is. Little Owl loves imaginary play. She is always concocting some incredible fantasy dish in her toy kitchen or packing her bags for magical lands dressed in wellies and a fairy outfit. We have a clothing rail that I used to use at fairs and it seemed perfect to construct the house on. Little Owl helped me cut out the fabric and handed me the pins. She has declared it “splendid” (Little Miss Splendid is her favourite in case you were wondering where she got that from). So, I’m NOT nesting but instead this is a thank you to my beautiful thoughtful daughter. And I hope she can cope with a variation on the monster theme for a few months more when enormous, swollen and vomiting are taken over by tired, leaky and sore!
