It’s my ‘do-something-day’ and as I have been pottering away doing my ‘something’s’ I stumbled across this. My magic button from the not-so-distant past, and sure enough, still tucked away in my iPad notes I found a little something I wrote on my first day of receiving it.
Woohoo! I whooped, as I brandished my new shiny London Underground ‘Baby On Board’ badge at my husband. It’s official… I have a badge…I am with child! It felt so good, the loud brashness of stating to the world ‘I am pregnant’. Somehow this little white button made me feel like I finally belonged to the exclusive club of mummies. No more hanging off the hand rails on the train for me on the way to and from work. I will simply hop on the train and if there are no seats of course someone will leap up for me now I am donning this flashing beacon of a statement!
‘Don’t expect anyone to notice it on the underground, and don’t be disappointed’, my husbands words rang in my not listening ears as I made my way to the station.
Standing on the platform feeling rather self conscious of my new protruding bump and massive badge I gave the women standing next to me a meaningful glance… yes, I am pregnant, it’s on my badge. You know what it’s like during morning rush hour with everyone stampeding onto the train like it’s the last one going to the Maldives?! Well this time everyone is bound to be careful (of the pregnant lady) and let me on the train first.
The train slowed to a stop and the doors started to open, started being the key word here. I was getting ready to graciously accept the offers of getting on first when to my horror I was shoved in the back, pushed to the side, somehow pulled to the back and I found myself standing with my mouth open like a fish staring at the now full train carriage and empty platform. WHAT what?! Did that actually happen? Yes it did!
Ok, so really I shouldn’t be THAT surprised. It happens most mornings except before I was pregnant I would be able to join in the battle and usually manage to charge my way through a little gap and get on… at the very least. But with my precious cargo there is no way I am going to risk doing any squeezing, charging or dodging.
Coming home was no better. The bump was seen, the badge was clocked and then of course either eyes closed feigning sleep or noses dived into books, kindles and other such devices. Can the world of commuters have suddenly got so cold hearted and plain rude? Or was I expecting too much from a little piece of plastic?
I will keep wearing my little badge to see what happens.
With ‘one born every minute’ there must be a lot of pregnant ladies out and about coming home from work with tired little feet and aching backs desperate to sit down, rather than trying to hang onto the hand rail of a speedy train or jerky bus. If you get a chance, remind your loved ones every now and again how much it meant to you when someone offered you their seat on a bus or train. Perhaps they in turn will give up their seat for another mum to be.