said my midwife. (A word play: It is childbed and not market stand, saying one belongs to bed and should not take care of house hold and such.)

And how right she was, and is, I realized a bit too late when I was back home with La Primavera. Not taking enough rest sent me back to the hospital after a week, and I am lucky and happy that no operation was necessary. It was a bit of a warning shot. I did, however, spent the nights and part of her sleeping time transcribing an interview for a study. Silly me. Really silly me. But I was young and needed the money – and the reputation.

With El Segundo I did not want to be that stupid. I am older and wiser. And thus I was smart enough to tell the editor of a book that I would not be able to meet the deadline of January. Nor February. Nor March. He still wanted me to write the article. Which I will. In April. When childbed is over. Until then I use the time to nap with El Segundo, play with La Primavera, and enjoy the moment.

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