Free From Here to Maternity by Sinéad Moriarty

High spirits – that’s what you want from a kid. How’s Emma getting on?’
    ‘She looks the worst I’ve ever seen her. She’s utterly exhausted and completely distracted. She says it’s all worth it and she’s clearly mad about Yuri, but I actually got a fright when I saw her. She obviously hasn’t slept in ages. I don’t know, Donal, this motherhood lark is definitely not all it’s cracked up to be.’
    ‘Well, she’s been through a lot in the last couple of years. You’ll have no problems – you’ll be pregnant straight away. My super-sperm will see to that. We’ll have a brood of kids in no time.’
    ‘Donal, you do realize I’m thirty-six, so the chances of us even having two kids are slim?’
    ‘Ah, I reckon if we got going now we’d squeeze at least three in, maybe four.’
    ‘One baby a year might be pushing it.’
    ‘We’re bound to have twins. My father’s a twin.’
    ‘Donal, I’d be quite happy with just one.’
    ‘One? But sure that’s no good. Only children are always spoilt and selfish and loners. There was an awful fellow in school with me who…’ Suddenly Donal realized what he was saying.
    Lucy raised her eyebrows. ‘Go on.’
    ‘Obviously there are exceptions to the rule – like you.’
    ‘So I’m not selfish, spoilt or weird?’
    ‘No, not at all. You do like to get your own way, though.’
    ‘Like when?’
    ‘Like when you fecked your bike in a bush and demanded to be taken out of the jungle.’
    ‘And you almost knocked me over in your eagerness to leave.’
    ‘I was only trying to keep you happy.’
    ‘Yeah, right. Anyway,’ said Lucy, sighing. ‘I like my job.’
    ‘Where did that come from?’ asked Donal, looking confused. ‘I thought we were talking about the jungle.’
    ‘I’ve spent fourteen years working my arse off to get to where I am and I’m really good at what I do. I like being respected and being successful in a man’s world. I don’t want to give it up,’ said Lucy, who was a high-flying management consultant.
    ‘But it’d only be for a few years until the kids were in school.’
    ‘Donal, if you take more than two weeks’ holidays in my profession, you risk losing your edge.’
    ‘Kids need to have their mothers around.’
    ‘Or fathers.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Why do I have to give up work? You said yourself you’re getting too old for professional rugby and that this’ll probably be your last season. Why don’t you stay at home and mind the baby?’
    ‘Me? Stay at home? Like a big girl? Lucy, fellas don’t do that.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Because they don’t.’
    ‘That’s your argument?’
    ‘Lookit, girls are naturally maternal. They know how to look after babies – it’s instinctive.’
    ‘Bullshit. They get lumbered with it. I can tell you now, Donal, I don’t think I’m very maternal. If I do ever have a baby I know I won’t want to give up work. I love what I do – it’s a huge part of who I am.’
    ‘When it’s your own kid, you’ll feel differently.’
    ‘I won’t. But if you feel so strongly about it, why can’t you be man enough to stay at home and mind the baby?’
    ‘Name me one fella you know who minds the kids while his wife works.’
    ‘Be a shepherd not a sheep.’
    ‘Lucy, can you focus on the conversation, please?’
    ‘I am. Why can’t you be the first guy we know to do it? Lead the herd.’
    ‘Why don’t you join the flock and stay at home like Flossie and the gang?’
    ‘Because, Donal, I’m a shepherd. Are you man or mouse?’
    ‘I thought I was a sheep.’
    ‘We’ll get a nanny,’ said Lucy.

Chapter 9
    Sean and Babs flew home from London on 23 December. James, Yuri and I went to the airport to pick them up. Sean rushed over to hug me and to see his nephew for the first time. He swung him round awkwardly, then sort of patted his back. Babs lagged behind, busy chatting up a good-looking guy carrying a guitar. When they had swapped numbers, she finally trundled over to say hi.