Page 13 of So Thrilled For You

I twist in the mirror and groan at every part of me that droops. What are they going to think when they see me? You know what, fuck it. I’m going to put some lipstick on.

Tristan wolf-whistles when I re-enter the living room. I’ve managed to shower, wash my hair, dry it, get dressed and apply lipstick in a shorter amount of time than his morning dump. Woody’s lying on his stomach, sucking our old TV remote that we gave him to stop him sucking our current one, while Tristan sits next to him on the floor, re-reading the ‘bespoke sleep schedule’ we received yesterday from the expensive consultant.

‘Have you seen this?’ he says, flicking at the print out. ‘This bit here, about the morning nap?’ He adopts the dulcet tone of Sammy – the lady we hired out of desperation last week. She spoke like The Talking Clock. ‘If your baby wakes from this nap before nine thirty, ask him to re-settle.’ He raises both eyebrows. ‘What the fuck does that mean? How do I ask a nine month old to settle? “Hey, Woody, mate. Do you kindly mind resettling now and going back to sleep please?”Is that what we’re doing wrong, we’re not asking?’

I laugh but the joke is too expensive to be funny. That piece of paper he’s holding cost £200 and was basically the last of my maternity leave fund. ‘I think, by “asking” she means, leaving him to cry a bit,’ I say, settling myself down next to them. My dress crumples but nobody will notice. It’s navy. That’s the point of navy. I chew on my lip. ‘You know? Like you wouldn’t let us do last night.’

‘And you’re happy letting our baby scream himself to sleep, are you?’

I shrug. ‘At least then he’ll be asleep.’

Tristan gives me one of the looks he’s given me many times since we reproduced. TheI-never-knew-this-side-of-youhorrified look.

Cool Mum gets a look from her partner, but a I-cant-believe-you’re-such-a-natural-mother look.

‘Honestly, Lauren. No. I’d rather be knackered than let him cry.’

I’m more knackered than you,I snap silently. I do all the feeding back to sleep. I didn’t sleep the first four months of pregnancy due to my nausea, and I didn’t sleep the last three months due to being such a giant blimp. And I breastfeed, so I do all the night wakes. I am so much more knackered than you will ever know, and now you’re not letting me mend the thing that will stop me being such a weeping, disgusting, exhausted husk of a person. Why won’t you let me fix this?

‘It’s not going to work unless we’re both willing to do what’s required,’ I tell him, my voice so much calmer than my inner monologue.

‘And you’re OK with letting Woody cry, are you?’

I watch our baby cram half the dummy TV remote down his gullet. ‘No,’ I say. ‘But I also know things can’t go on like this.’

‘He’ll grow out of it.’

‘We’ve paid for her and everything. It’s worth a try.’

Tristan stands, leaving the schedule on the floor. ‘Are you looking forward to later?’ he asks, super breezy. If we’re ever on the verge of arguing, Tristan always stands and changes thetopic. Sometimes I’m grateful – other times, like now, I feel like he may as well slap his hand over my mouth.

‘Yeah, I guess,’ I swallow. ‘I’m nervous about Woody’s naps. He’s only slept twenty minutes today. He must be knackered.’

‘He doesn’t look knackered.’ Tristan heads over to the kitchen area and grabs the loaf of bread to make himself a sandwich. The man, I swear, eats about twelve sandwiches a day. He tells me one of the best things about England is how readily available sandwiches are – apparently they’re not a thing in Australia. ‘People think Aussies come to London for the culture, or because it’s so close to the rest of Europe, but, no, it’s really for Pret,’ Tristan tells anyone as his party joke. How he’s still so skinny I’ll never know. I wish he could’ve been the pregnant one, like a seahorse. Tristan would’ve lost his baby weight within an hour postpartum.

‘I’m hoping he’ll sleep on the way there. He hates the car seat though.’

Tristan slaps cheese onto buttered bread .

‘It will be nice though, won’t it? Seeing the girls?’ He says, ignoring my anxiety.

I roll my eyes and absentmindedly stroke Woody’s back. ‘I’m looking forward to catching up with Steffi on the drive. It will be so nice to talk about work. Work! Not, freakin’ baby weaning recipes on the NCT WhatsApp.Organic courgette muffins made from coconut flour I ground myself Anna.’

‘You’re always so mean about Anna.’

‘She said the hardest part of pregnancy was the maternity bras not being sexy enough.’

‘I thought you were angry at Steffi anyway?’ Tristan ignores my dig. He always defends NCT Anna. Anna ‘seems great’.Anna is definitely a Cool Mum. Her baby slept through atfour months– ‘I didn’t even do anything. It just happened, sorry.’

I sigh. ‘I’m not angry at Steffi. I just found that article she posted a bit insensitive.’

‘The child free one . . . I know.’ Tristan doesn’t roll his eyes, but I sense him yawn inwardly. I’ve complained non-stop since Steffi posted it alongside the caption, ‘Finallysomeone is saying it–whoop’.I read the linked article at 4am and felt so wounded by it I’m surprised there wasn’t blood on my phone.

‘I just still can’t believe that’s what she thinks of me.’

He sighs and takes a bite of his bread, speaking through his mouth. ‘We’ve gone through this. It’s not about you. It’s about Steffi. Howshefeels, aboutherlife choices.’

My blood starts itching as I think about it again. ‘Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she has to judge mine.’

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