I’ve rewritten Jenny Joseph’s Warning poem (you might know it as When I Am Old I Shall Wear Purple for all my fellow pregnant ladies – past, present and future. I just don’t think we celebrate our purple veins enough.
Now I Am Pregnant (I Shall Wear Veins of Purple)
Now I am pregnant I shall wear veins of purple
With stripey clothes that no longer fit, and don’t suit me
And I shall spend my my mat pay
On big pants and nursing bras
And sensible shoes,
And say we have no money for your booze.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired,
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells,
And run my belly along public railings.
And make up for all the drunkenness of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens,
And learn to “breathe”.
I will wear terrible shirts and grow more fat,
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go,
Or only bread and pickles for a week,
And hoard socks and blankets and wee hats
And things in boxes.
For after we must always be grateful,
And not lose our tempers or swear at playgroup,
We will have mums to coffee and read the how-tos.
But maybe we ought to care a little bit less?
So people who don’t know us
Are quite shocked and surprised,
When we don’t take their advice,
And suddenly dance on tables
With our veins of purple.