I have a great affection for Oscar Wilde, with his witty and candid aphorisms and scandalous behaviour. Those who know me well, will know how much a fan I am!
He is not known for his compassion, so I don't wish to condemn this quote about his wife's second pregnancy. Furthermore, it is a pretty close depiction of me during the months of Baby Girl's gestation, and I do like a candid report of things, so it makes me titter... many things have changed since the nineteenth century, but not this!
"When I married, my wife was a beautiful girl, white and slim as a lily, with dancing eyes and gay rippling laughter like music. In a year or so the flower-like grace had all vanished; she became heavy, shapeless, deformed: she dragged herself around the house in uncouth misery with drawn blotched face and hideous body, sick at heart because of our love. It was dreadful. I tried to be kind to her; forced myself to touch and kiss her; but she was always sick, and - oh! I cannot recall it, it is all loathsome."
From Franny Moyle's brilliant book Constance, The Tragic and Scandalous Life of Mrs Oscar Wilde (John Murray).
Ouch! Would love to have heard her side of the story. She was a remarkable woman: in part responsible for us now not wearing restrictive clothing and boned undergarmets and a fashion icon of her time. (Think Kate Middleton 100 years ago.)
NB: I should state, this is a thermometer, not a pregnancy test... I knew I was pregnant! (Apparently temperature testing is 'du rigeur' when your children regularly kick holes in their uterine sacks!)
The Boy has just seen this picture and marvelled at it: "Mummy you were soooooo fat! He then saw one of me in bed in the penguin PJ's he knows and loves and said incredulous: "But you can't sleep like that!"... Quite dear boy, quite!
And of course it was all worth it!
So was it just me... and clearly Constance Wilde? How was it for you?