THERE'S a certain pheromone in the air. Expectant mothers and fathers abound. It's almost catching, this baby thing. Mari-Aymone Djeribi, who came from Paris 10 years ago, fell in love with Dominic Stevens two years ago - she's expecting their first child - today! She is possibly in labour as you read this article.
Sculptor Rachel Joynt is due to give birth two days before Christmas. She's here with her partner, sculptor Remco De Fouw.
We are gathered in the midwives' sitting-room in the National Maternity Hospital on Holles Street where four new titles are being, eh, born? There is wine, a roaring fire, a fine high ceiling and a couple of soon-to-be mothers and fathers with many of their friends.
Three of the books being launched are published by Djeribi's company, Mermaid Turbulence, a name which conjures up weird amniotic images. We begin to feel queasy.
Dominic says he's looking forward to the birth of their child and to being able to say push. "As the father," he says, "coming to Holles Street you learn what it's like to be a woman in an Arab culture. You feel you are here as an appendage."
There are a number of bumps all around us. "When are you due?", we ask the woman sitting on the couch. "I'm not," she says defensively, "it's just water retention, really." Ooops. There's a girl with another protuberance. "No, I'm not pregnant," she says, crossly. "That's a bag, you goose." Ooops again.
Ciaran Cuffe, Commissioner for Lights on Dublin's City Council, is leaning up against the piano, enjoying the launch and "the sumptous view down the Fitzwilliam Street axis". Did we mention that he's a town planner?