This is an exclusive extract from Womb with a View, my forthcoming debut book about the unjoys of pregnancy, birth and the shock of being a new mother. You know, the shock that hits you like a jugganaut full of concrete. Then reverses back over you. Twice.
Shameless plug alert: the book will be published next month, and will be available for purchase through my website. Details will follow shortly (once I have dried the baby sick from my keyboard and finished writing the site).
On the disappearance of the definitive article
Call the grammar police, someone has made off with the definitive article. As a consequence, neither the GP or the gaggle of midwives can describe my foetus as ‘the baby’.
“How’s baby?” asks the midwife. “THE baby is fine, thanks,” I reply.
“Have you felt baby kick?” enquires the GP. “No, the baby has yet to kick, though if you insist on dropping the ‘the’ again when you refer to THE baby, I fear I will be kicking you up THE arse,” I nearly reply.
They don’t drop the ‘the’ in any other sentence. They don’t say “pop up on couch for me please.” They don’t ask “When did you last see consultant?”
I don’t say “Please, shut fuck up.”