Annie and Alice by Lucien Freud
When I was pregnant with my daughter, and was having bad pelvis days — when your bones are shifting to accomodate your need to squeeze out a baby after a while — and the pain was so bad that even the heating pad couldn’t help, much less the paltry Advil I was allowed to take, I would lay on my side like this picture, and wish for someone just to talk to me, to put their hands on my belly like this, to tell me the pain would go away.
I obviously made it through the pain of shifting bones and growing bellies and a baby. I have my daughter. But yes. That calming voice and touch would have been much welcome.
