With just 5 weeks of my pregnancy to go, my big belly is getting me alot of attention. People ask me on the street “Dat gonna be a Jamaican baby?” and then beam at me when I say I’m having it here. Lots of expats go home to their native countries to give birth, but I have chosen to stay; a decision that has it’s pros and cons! Continue reading
On one of my frequent trips to the supermarket, I had to stop myself from buying a fighter fish in a jar. For sale, bizarrely, at the pharmacy counter; these beautiful purple fish with long fins and tails, are living in small jars, gazing out at the world, or more likely their own reflection. I asked the lady behind the counter if they’d need a bigger tank, or would they be happy to keep living in a jar, and she just shrugged and said they live fine in a jar. Am beginning to know how that feels!
After spending all week looking at places to rent, we’ve finally found a place to live!! It was like being on MTV Cribs, being whizzed around the Kingston suburban hinterland by 3 different estate agents in tinted window SUVs looking at all manner of lovely gaffs… Some which seemed ridiculously huge and we would have definitely got lost in. Sitting rooms bigger than our whole house in Dublin. Giant bathrooms with huge double sinks… The different agents were all lovely, and full of chat about Kingston and the different areas and what life is like here – one of them even took me to a hospital appointment while I was getting a blood test done!
I imagined there’d be a mix of Jamaicans and holidaying Brits on the plane. I was wrong! I think I counted about 3 other white faces in total on our Virgin Atlantic flight from Gatwick to Kingston.
Both me and H decided on 3 of our favourite things to do in Dublin, that we wanted to do before we left. Here’s our lists – mine involving radically less drinking and horse-riding than it might have done if I wasn’t pregnant!
“Hi, I’m 23 weeks pregnant, and I’m having my baby.. IN JAMAICA!” That has to be one of the bizzarest statements I’ve ever made. I have no idea why our pregnancy yoga teacher insists that each week we go round in a circle like Alcoholics Anonymous, and say how many weeks gone we are and where we are having our babies.