A quiet corner of Tokyo, Japan Condition: 39 weeks, 4 days. Very pregnant. Very still.
I also know that my toddler will be waiting at home. He will be eating okonomiyaki with his grandmother. He will look up when I walk through the door and say, “ Okaeri ” (Welcome home) before he even looks at the baby. Just before the birth again- Japan- Pregnant- U...
If you are reading this from a coffee shop in London, or a living room in New York, or a similar apartment in Osaka—take a breath. The waiting is the labor, too. The waiting is the work. A quiet corner of Tokyo, Japan Condition: 39 weeks, 4 days
Tomorrow, I will walk to the 7-Eleven ( konbini ) for the last time as a mother of one. I will buy the tonkotsu ramen in a cup that I am not supposed to crave. I will buy a kakigori (shaved ice) because the heat is biblical. I will stand in the fluorescent light, my belly brushing against the magazine rack, and I will feel utterly anonymous and utterly seen at the same time. I also know that my toddler will be waiting at home
Let’s not romanticize it too much. I am scared.
This is my second pregnancy in Japan. You would think the second time is easier. You would be wrong. It is not harder, necessarily. It is deeper .