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All’s Well
Counting kicks and hospital triage after the hottest day of the year
It’s thirty-three degrees on the day Jacqueline and I go to Kew Gardens. I’m not sure what that is in Fahrenheit, but even Robert agrees that’s hot. So is our apartment; at least the District Line has AC.
We’re both determined to do the gardens thoroughly: Jacqueline has a map of specific tree specimens she wants to visit, and I am a compulsive completionist. So we’re there at 10, when it opens, sunglasses on, parasol up, sunscreen applied.
The gardens are extensive. Glasshouses range from palm to rainforest to desert to alpine to temperate (with appropriate climates for each). One is just for water lilies. There’s a bamboo forest, a canopy walk, a botanical confusion of trees from all around the world scattered through the park. With so much there to see, I have to remind myself to check in with my body: is this heat okay?
Although we take breaks in the shade, I’m googling “overheating pregnancy” “pregnancy cramps” and the like by teatime. In the tiny bathroom of the no-AC historic teahouse, I strip and try to cool my body with damp paper towels. It’s somewhat effective. Or at least, I’m less sticky after.
Based on my search results, I would have to be sustaining a temperature of 39C/102F to be causing baby…
