Friendship and the Bikini Birth
I still remember the whimsical way our friendship began, with a blind hamster named Popeye making a daring escape along the corridor of Moulton College's animal care department. I was sixteen, maybe seventeen, at the time, and the soft scuttling sound drew my eye just before Tracy came bustling around the corner, a beacon of laughter, chasing the tiny adventurer into my room.
"Hiya!" she exclaimed, her grin wide and utterly infectious. We struck a chord in each other's lives with a spontaneity that felt almost fated.
From the get-go, our spirits dovetailed into a seamless camaraderie — two souls, delightfully mad in our merry ways. Our laughs became a familiar echo through the halls, and now, as we teeter on the cusp of our forties, our hearts remain as young and wild as ever.
The greatest honor came when Tracy asked me, amid the whirl of her wedding plans to Adam, to stand by her side as a bridesmaid. Never before had I dressed in the silken folds of such a role, and I was engulfed by a joy so luminous, it rivalled the radiance Tracy emanated that day.
And then, the birth of Harry — what a marvel! Even as a seasoned midwife, there was something profound in supporting your best friend through such an intimate rite of passage. Through gritted teeth and joyful tears, Tracy insisted on a modesty that defied all norms, donning a bikini in the birthing bath. To this day, she can paint a room red with laughter, recounting how her "ever-pious" friend saw her at her most vulnerable, despite everyone knowing better.
The journey we've woven from that first impromptu introduction to these treasured milestones, our friendship endures — a testament to the bond born in innocence and nurtured through life's grand tapestry.