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Monday, 28 January 2013

How I went Dutch and why I still regret it


I had such a great day last Wednesday. I just had a lunch with a friend in Delft (Hi, Lynn!), when my husband called me and said that he wanted to go ice-skating. My husband sometimes spontaneously decides that he wants to go somewhere or do something, and now, as the weather was nice and cold an crisp, ice-skating seemed like a perfect activity.

Me on the ice... shortly before I fell... I know I look slighthly panicky, but I really had it all under control!

I mean, ice-skating in the Netherlands? Where on Earth could I find an activity that would give me the chance to stay fit during pregnancy, follow a popular Dutch tradition, AND spend some quality time with my husband, WITHOUT the children?

As fast as I could, I caught the next tram and headed back to Rijswijk, where we went ice-skating on a little lake close to our house. It was… wonderful… right to the moment when a little girl asked me whether I could ice skate. And then… I fell a little bit. Not badly, luckily.

But it was already bad enough that my husband, instead of immediately helping me to get up, broke out his mobile phone, and took a picture of me falling. And then he said that he’s going to put it on Facebook, even though he never puts anything on Facebook. When I pointed this out, he smiled and said that there’s always a first time. And it doesn’t even end here.

We went back home, and I even cooked a nice dinner for the four of us. And then, in the middle of the night, I was woken up by a terrible cramp. No, luckily it wasn’t my uterus hurting (today’s midwife appointment shows that the baby is fine), instead it was a cramp in my left calf that made me cry and wake up my husband, if only to tell him that I am about to die and they’d have to amputate my leg. He wasn’t impressed and told me it will stop. However, when he went to buy some magnesium for my cramps, he basically made me  forgive him. Almost.

Anyway, the cramps got slightly better the next day, but walking was very hard for a while. Even now, 5 days later, I prefer to lie down on the couch than to walk. We took the girls sleighing on Saturday and my husband put on his ice-skates, but I decided not to.  I have learned my lesson.

The Germans have a saying: “Sport ist Mord”, and I think I’ll remember it next time when I want to do any kind of sports. After all, isn’t carrying a baby enough?



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