A Tale Of Two Couples
This is a tale of two couples. There’s nothing similar about them, not in income, nor in taste, nor in lifestyle – except the woman in each couple is seven months pregnant with her first child.
The first couple are barely into their early twenties and money is tight. Any furniture they’ve bought is flatpack and baby equipment has been inherited from their families. He’s a barber and she works in a bar. The baby was a surprise, to be honest, but it quickly turned to excitement and now they’re looking forward to parenthood. They’re talking about maybe getting married next year, although they were only together a few months before the pregnancy and once, with too much to drink, the boy admitted he might not still be with her if circumstances were otherwise.
The second couple are in their mid-thirties, he’s a successful businessman and she’s in PR and friends tease them the nappies will be Prada. They’re been married four years and this baby was planned – with military precision. Already they’ve selected the most expensive pram on the market, decided on (well-heeled) godparents and decorated one of three spare rooms in their house as a nursery.
The younger couple aren’t preparing a nursery, they only have one bedroom in their rented flat, but they have their names down for a council place. Meanwhile the girl has bought a Winnie the Pooh mobile to hang over their hand-me-down cot and has her eye on matching bedding with her next pay cheque. But she realises she should really be setting aside money because she wants to spend at least a year at home with her baby. The PR consultant is slogging away, trying to clear the decks with her caseload and keen to hoard all her maternity leave for afterwards, although she won’t be taking any extra time. She’s exhausted in the evenings but hopes she can keep going until a week or two beforehand. Neither couple knows the other: I’m the common denominator between them – friend of one, relative of another. I’ve been intrigued, watching their preparations to become a family unit, and what’s most noticeable is their shared characteristics rather than any differences. There’s universality to the experience as each waits for their baby to become a reality instead of a bump.
But I’ve been wondering, too, whether the privileges and maturity of one couple as opposed to the straitened circumstances of the younger pair will impact on the prospects for each baby. Will the comfort and cash in the background of one child make it happier than the other? Sometimes it has seemed to be a test case on which I have a ringside seat.
But test cases make uncomfortable watching in real life. This week I met both women: the 20-year-old continues to bloom, but after I lunched with the 35-year-old PR consultant I heard she lost her baby that night. Unfortunately her little girl died in the womb. And I guess that answered my speculation although in a harsher, more direct way than I could ever have anticipated. There are situations in life where money is, quite simply, no help.
