Extremely close

How close is close? It’s sleeping with a spine pressed against yours. It’s someone else filling your bladder, dictating what you eat, deciding when you should sleep. Carrying a baby will redefine how close you are to another person; not only because of the daily experience of bonding you have with your unborn child, but also because you will share many things that were not in your wedding vows: backache, swollen ankles and haemorrhoids. Close is him being down the business end when you are crowning (and lets not even think about the rest.)

close up

Close is accepting a small mewling creature gnawing your nipples to shreds, leaving permanent marks on skin that will never shrink back and confusing your formerly-reasoned thinking to the point where you have no idea which way is up.

closer

Close is also lying all night on an array of small sharp objects disguised as toys- which you never quite got round to picking up before bedtime- because that same small mewling infant is now a toddler with a temperature. Close is holding their burning body under the shower to clean off the vomit that covered you both at dawn. Close is lying next to them as they finally, after being dosed to the eyeballs, after reading their most favourite story a dozen times, close their eyes. Close is watching the flickering eyelashes of REM sleep as you whisper “I love you” and creep downstairs to tidy up the detritus of the day and put yet another load of laundry on.

extreme close up

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