Fact: I have never felt more manly than since I've been pregnant.
I spit now. And the baby is a gas machine. THE BABY. Not me. That's always important to note when I have to say excuse me in public.
I never learnt how to burp. I am a lady. My dad taught me how to throw a ball, but burping? Definitely not. Burping is for men, and apparently pregnant women...
My husband likes to tell me these days as I struggle to let one out that I really should have been taught how to burp and asks me if I'd like him to teach me. I hold my head up high and inform him I am a lady. He told me that he is going to teach our daughters how to burp and I told him that I will teach our sons how to paint their nails.
We still haven't decided who wins that argument.
Oh all the things that I am learning! I am learning that skin can stretch way beyond what you thought possible. I have learnt that a tiny body can indeed fit a pineapple inside it, and soon a pumpkin. But I don't like to think about the pumpkin. Please don't mention the word pumpkin in my presence.
I have learnt that everyone has an opinion about what my baby is, how my labour should go, and everything I should do after this child is in my arms.
I have learnt that my heart is no longer inside my chest, but has moved to my uterus and will soon be walking outside my body making its own choices.
One of the most beautiful things I am seeing is my husband become a father. This didn't happen with this child, I watched Jordan become a father by grieving his daughter Regen's death. And now, I get to watch as he celebrates our second babies life. The first night I knew it was a kick, I yelled for Jordan, he came barrelling in and when his hand was kicked he jumped up and let out some kind of squeaking noise I didn't know he could make.
Ever since then his hand or ear is on baby every chance he gets, practicing his story telling and letting baby know how great we are. When baby doesn't move for him, it doesn't phase him he just says- Baby, be still! But the majority of the time, whenever he touches my tummy, baby moves so fast to where his hand is that I am sure this child is going to follow his/her daddy around every day.
I married a man I wanted my sons to be like, and my daughters to be cherished by. I can't wait to hand this child over to him amidst the blood and water and weird white stuff that I am told will come off. I can't wait for him to call this child by name and watch as he truly becomes a father, a protector, a big mushy teddy bear.
Till then, I burp, and spit, and waddle like I have a beer belly, and Jordan pretends not to be too grossed out which is quite sweet of him. I am a mother, and I have stretch marks, poor eyesight, dry skin, and a new weird mole on my hand to prove it. These stretch marks are beautiful and there are many women who would give anything to have them.
I would have loved to give my body for my first child, but didn't have the chance. This time, in less than two months, I have the incredible privilege of being a part of partnering with God to bring life into the world. And as long as I stop thinking about the size of a pumpkin, I think I'll be alright!
