I never abandoned you. I may have left you in the dark – for years even – but I thought of you constantly.
Others tried to take your place but nothing ever could. Those relationships were simply a means to an end.
Accommodating, forgiving and flattering, I can honestly say that you were my favorite. And though we’ve been separated, I’ve longed for this moment, this happy reunion. You loved me as I was. And now I’m back, I am finally back!
Come to me my sweet! Wrap your arms and legs around me! I am once again yours.
Years ago when I first lived in New York, I worked with a woman who had a young son. She told me how when she was pregnant no one knew it — they simply couldn’t tell by looking at her. Sadly, this led to many a long commute on the subway with no one offering her a seat. But fairly, she was the truest example of an apple I’d ever seen, so the mistake was an honest one to many I’m sure. This much even she acknowledged but she also pointed out something I’ve never forgotten – FAT WOMEN DO NOT TOUCH THEIR FAT. Only a pregnant woman rubs and strokes and holds her belly. So true. I’ve already begun to rub mine.
It is with immense pleasure I unpacked and washed my maternity wardrobe this week. No more sucking in, no more covering up — time to embrace and display. Time to rub and stroke and pull pants up and over. Time to be comfortable all the time.
I love being pregnant.