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‘Oh, that would have been difficult,’ Miranda said.
‘Yep. Needless to say, she wasn’t impressed, although she said she understood. But I was the one who assured her Icould get it done in time in the first place. I don’t know why I always think I have to be SuperMum.’
‘At least you’ve learned from that experience, Cara,’ Liz said.
‘Yeah, and I’ve learned never to leave my drawings alone, even for a minute. Somehow, it’ll always bethatminute that one of my children decides to do something naughty.’
‘That’s kids for you,’ Wendy said.
Miranda hadn’t thought that far ahead. She’d always been so focused on finding the right man and beingableto get pregnant, that she hadn’t really considered the challenges that having a growing child entailed. ‘Do you think Alice will get you to do more portraits?’ Miranda asked.
‘Who knows? Maybe if they’re not urgent. But I wouldn’t count on it. Selling paintings are one thing, but commissioned work is a whole different ballgame. If I don’t deliver the goods, it reflects badly on her too.’
‘True.’ Miranda nodded. ‘Hey, you could do a group portrait of all of us!’
‘I could, but it might take me a year. And be warned, you may end up with moustaches, beards, and God knows what else if Jacob gets his hands on it!’ Cara laughed. ‘But I really love doing portraits, so what I’ve decided instead of pursuing the issue with Alice, is to set up a website to promote my portrait drawings. Now it’s just a matter of figuring out how to do that technical stuff, how much to charge for the portraits, and how to get people to, well, buy them!’
‘Here’s a thought, Cara; perhaps you could hand flyers to the parents at your son’s pre-school, with a special offer for a portrait of their child, before the website goes live. Then, you’ll have a showcase of examples to display on the site, andit will give you some money to help set up the website,’ Liz suggested.
‘Fantastic idea, thanks!’ Cara scribbled in her notepad, then sprang up in her chair. ‘I could even advertise in the newsletter at my daughter’s school, maybe around school photo time, so parents could give me a copy of their child’s photo to draw!’ Cara scribbled some more, and her skin seemed to be jumping with excitement at the possibilities awaiting her.
‘Then you’ll need to work out how long each portrait takes to complete, and add on some extra time for unforeseen circumstances, so you can give customers a realistic turnaround time and plan a schedule around your children.’ Liz waited for Cara to write down her further instructions before adding, ‘And don’t pull any more all-nighters!’
‘Definitely not!’
After more discussion from other members of the club, Liz turned to Gina.
Finally!Miranda was dying to hear her latest news.
‘So, tell us, Gina, how are you?’ Liz asked.
‘Actually, I’m pregnant.’ The words came out with her lips barely moving, like someone had spoken for her.
Whoa.The room fell silent. With Gina’s desperate confession during the last meeting she’d attended, Miranda was sure she was going to say she’d left her husband. Plus, although she was in a much better place emotionally, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny twinge of envy at her pregnancy.
‘Wow ... how do you feel about that?’ asked Liz.
‘I think this is going to change things in my marriage. I know what I said the last time I was here, but I think this is a sign I’m meant to stay with my husband and work things out.This is what he’s been wanting for years, and he’s over the moon it’s finally happened.’
‘Well, if you’re sure, then I guess congratulations are in order.’ Liz clapped, and the others joined in.
As Miranda clapped, she couldn’t help noticing that Gina didn’t seem as excited about the pregnancy as she’d seemed about the possibility of a fitness career. This club was way more interesting than watching television. What would Gina’s future have in store for her now?
TWENTY-SIX
Life Makeover Principle #9:
Embrace CHANGE, for it is the vehicle that transports you forward.
Marvin couldn’t wait to tell everyone about the pregnancy, and despite Gina’s insistence they wait till the twelve-week mark, he’d phoned family and friends not long after the two pink lines appeared. This created an avalanche of ‘congratulations’ cards, phone calls, and well-meaning words of advice, such as: ‘make sure you get a ‘Mother Love’ pram, it’s so easy to fold’, and: ‘why don’t you try one of those magnetic wrist bands, I hear they’re great for morning sickness and labour’. Gina’s mother had been close to tears at the news. ‘I’m so proud of you, my daughter,’ she’d said. Proud? All she’d done was have sex with her husband. It wasn’t like she’d sat some sort of lengthy pregnancy exam and passed with a high distinction.
Gina could barely comprehend that a living being was developing inside her, let alone having to think about which pram to get and what to do during labour. For now, she just wanted to get her head around the pregnancy itself, and how to salvage her relationship, which Marvin didn’t even know she’d contemplated leaving.
Gina’s pile of romance books had been replaced with pregnancy and motherhood books, courtesy of her mother and sisters-in-law. She was only a few pages into one of them, up to the section on: ‘accepting your changing body’. This reminded her of the puberty book she’d got when she was twelve-years-old, only this time, she wasn’t becoming a woman, she was becoming a mother. Motherhood: the pinnacle of womanhood, the book said. The purpose and miracle of the female body.
She imagined her body changing, blossoming into rounded curves. She hoped it wouldn’t be too difficult to regain her figure afterwards. A selfish thought, she decided, but with years of dedication to sculpting an awesome figure, she couldn’t help but hope it wasn’t all for nothing. She’d seen other women have children, only to keep gaining weight until they were unrecognisable from their previous selves. This wouldn’t happen to her. She’d make sure of it.
Today she was taking the day off work to see the doctor and get her follow up blood results to confirm that the pregnancy hormone was increasing as expected and that her iron levels were normal, organise paperwork and appointments for her antenatal care and an ultrasound, and visit Naomi at the gym to have a pregnancy exercise program tailored for her. Marvin had left for work an hour ago, and she’d uncharacteristically slept in. She’d have to make sure she went to bedearlier each night so she wouldn’t get overtired; she’d heard tiredness went hand-in-hand with pregnancy. There’d be so much to think about, to learn, over the coming months. Part of her was still unsure about being a mother, and part of her looked forward to the experience that many women said was the most miraculous experience of their lives. Maybe once the hormones kicked in a bit more, she’d feel more maternal?
