License to Prang

2 May 2010, 10:00

Note to self: Car accidents and pregnant women do not mix. There are tears. There are trips to the G.P (everything OK, heard the heartbeat for the first time). There is the fact that the accident was ALL YOUR FAULT (pregnancy brain, natch).

The funny thing was, our car was written off on Friday. The assessor let us take the car home for the weekend, sending Husband off with the parting words “we don’t care what kind of state the car is in, as long as it rolls through the door”. Evidently, some part of me desperately wanted to smash the car and suddenly I had license to do it.

I was on my way to my first ever pre-natal yoga class. I couldn’t find a park on High Street so ducked down a side street to find a park. Not finding one, I did a sudden U-Turn without checking to see if a car was coming from behind me (I mean, who doesn’t check that shit?), heard the horn, but too late – I U-Turned straight into the front passenger side of another car. The worst part was there was a 7-year old boy in the front passenger side. What the hell he was doing there, I don’t know, but I was terrified he was hurt. So being a pregnant woman, pregnant with emotion, I started sobbing. The little boy was OK though. I actually think he thought it was pretty cool, being involved in a car accident.

Too shaken up to attend Yoga, I headed home and sobbed a little more. My gorgeous daughter was a goddess, piling high “thousand of teddies” on my lap (there must have been 20) and smothering me with a barrage of consoling kisses and cuddles. Which made me cry even harder. Can I not win?

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