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00:53:00

She was in a crappy mood. She dove in his lifestyle completely. She was too heavy to walk and too afraid that someone she knew could see her in her state. Now it would be difficult to pretend that the situation was different and she put so much weight for no reason at all. She bunkered herself in her room. She ordered her food online and, the same as him, she was just taking in the packages with ready meals. She connected the TV to the computer to have a bigger picture. Now she was a typical internet addict clinging to Zoella's and Tanya Burr’s make-up tutorials, and all the extracts from American TV shows which helped her not to think about her state. She reached as far as digging deep for helpful pieces of advice by mothers who had already given birth to children and knew how to shed the postpartum weight. Her diet was a roller coaster. Either she starved for a while or she just plundered the kitchen at night, having a feeling that staying inside the house took a toll on her biological clock. She was glued to the couch and glued to the TV screen, interchanging healthy eating habits and pangs of fast food craving. She felt terrible.

She couldn’t stand clips about motherhood, which were uploaded in such a welcoming way by all blissful and fulfilled mothers. All the talk about feeding the baby and taking care of it made her awkward and nervous. She didn’t enjoy them. She didn’t find any pleasure in looking at the child at all. She was just numb as if she had been watching clips about cars. Or farming a field of beetroots. There was nothing exciting in these little persons she was exposed to. There was nothing that made her want to hold them, talk to them, and get anywhere near them.

But the paradox of her state was surprising for her as well. She didn’t feel anything but fear at the upcoming childbirth. She didn’t have any positive feelings towards the child. Forget those little children from the computer screen. It was about her child. She should have some feelings for it, but she didn’t. Quite the contrary, it made her angry. She wasn’t patient enough to go through the books and magazines about bringing it up. She couldn’t stand one children clothes haul so enthusiastically advertised online. She was way more interested in watching those silly American talk show clips than actually taking care of herself, her body and her fetus.

Her mother was completely different. She went crazy at the sight of a toddler, even though it was somebody's else child. She started all the silly babbling speech when she got an access to the baby. If her mother could give up her job, she would probably become a kindergarten teacher. If she could give up her pregnancy, she would become everything instead: even a Robocop.

There was a blank page in her mind, a complete lack of desire to fill her days with the education of a child, spending time with it, feeding it and reading to it a good night story. The prospect of an everyday walk to the kindergarten, then school, filled her with unhappiness she simply couldn’t define. She sat there on the couch, speechless, sad, stuffing herself with food, and felt more and more depressed. As her belly was getting bigger, she entered a dark hole without the light at the end of the tunnel. She really tried hard to make the best of the situation. She tried to look at children in a positive way, as she had also been a child and she wouldn’t like to be looked down on. But it was all in vain. The more she tried, the more frustrated she became. Her blissful state after the holiday weeks was long gone. Now she was a home prisoner, a YouTube addict, a couch potato. And she just didn’t find sense in being a mother.