I think I miss being pregnant…
I honestly just thought about this in the last half hour.
I drank an ice cold glass of water and a strange subconscious expectation, almost like a muscle memory, waited for a wriggle in my stomach. It just dawned on me that I’m never going to have a bowling ball belly (with sore back), or teeny kicking feet (digging into my ribs) or that miracle-growing-a-person feeling (sick inducing) ever again. At least we really don’t plan to…
Maybe I was lucky. I had two really straightforward pregnancies, sure – with the odd super tired day, or nauseous moment. But in the main, they were enjoyable, lovely, magical. And tonight it hit home that I won’t be doing that again.
Me: “I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel sad that I won’t ever be pregnant again.”
Mr MM: “You don’t want to be pregnant again though do you?” (Slightly alarmed tone.)
Me: “No. I didn’t say that. You’re such a boy. I’m just saying how I feel.”
Mr MM: “Oh. But why?”
Me: “That’s just what girls do. And I do feel a bit sad I won’t grow another small person. Feel the amazing feelings of a baby growing inside, it’s so weird that with something so incredible and precious I’ve forgotten how it feels already.”
Mr MM: “But why would you want to? Wasn’t it hard?” Still not getting it.
Me: “Well at times, yes. But mainly, I’m going to miss it, ok?”
He chooses to be quiet now, sensibly, as I’m having a rare girly moment. It’s not that I want to feel all that stuff again necessarily, more like an era is over and I’m nostalgic about it after a glass or two.