Freya Hill

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Blessing

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Blessing

A couple of weeks ago I was standing in the chemist, with my 3 month old babe in her almost comically large buggy. Why did we feel we needed the widest buggy we could buy? I was there to buy cream for her,  because her bottom was sore.  I couldn’t bear to see her skin in pain, I couldn’t bear to know there was something in my power to make things better for her than I had not done. 

My Mum, bless her, had already spent about $50 on nappy creams for our babe. Beautiful natural creams, which seemed to do nothing. We wanted to care for her, make her better as quickly as we could. 

While I waited at the chemist I noticed a young couple come in with their daughter. She was maybe about 2 years, maybe younger. The couple spoke to the chemist, while the young girl rested on her father’s shoulder. She was moaning quietly, perhaps with tiredness, perhaps in pain.  It was a wintry day, and I had my babe wrapped up in several layers of merino wool clothes, plus a wool blanket wrapped around her as she lay in the buggy. The little girl by contrast was only wearing shorts and a t-shirt, with a little polar fleece blanket wrapped around her by her father. I wondered how warm the girl’s house was, how warm the car would be as she was  driven home.  

The young couple spoke to each other while they waited. My babe dozed in her buggy; little hands relaxed at her side. The little girl dozed on her father’s shoulder, little hands relaxed at her side. He was tall and strong looking; someone in his physical prime. He didnt look cold wearing a t shirt and shorts on that winters day,  although his little girl did. 

The chemist’s assistant called out “prescription ready for Blessing?” The little girl’s parents stepped forward. Their blessing, Blessing, in their arms. I awkwardly manoeuvred my oversized pram through  out of the couple’s way, and they carried their blessing in their arms, into the wintery chill. 

babiesbabymotherhoodparenting

freya • August 14, 2019


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