Sunday 21 June 2009


I like being a pregnant person. (And no, that is not my stomach up there. I am holding out on those kinds of photos until there is no shadow of a doubt it is Baby Not Burgers)

  • People are nice to you.
  • They care about how you are doing. And mean it.
  • They think being round is Cute. For Once.
  • Resting is important and excused
  • People squeal when they see you
  • And are really genuinely excited for you
  • You get to buy big clothes
  • You no longer need to (or can) hold your gut in
  • Not seeing your feet is comical, not tragic
  • Looking good is secondary, OK, tertiary, to feeling good
  • Asking for help comes really easily
  • It matches my already advanced need for quiet time and naps and comfy bottoms
So yes, it suits. I love the attention. I love my thick hair and strong nails. I love the kicks and the somersaults. I love Mark talking to my tummy. I have a few physical niggles, but not bad. I feel good. And Special. Because I am growing a person.

What's going to happen after the boy comes? Will I get any attention? Will I care? Is this the ultimate test of being a Grown Up? It is no longer about you -- and that is OK? Does the maternal love kick in and all that matters is the Baby?

Being a Very Important Pregnant Person is lovely. I look forward to seeing if I can give up the crown graciously to my new Prince.


Anonymous said...

A boy! Yeah! Of course, couldn't you just write a headline announcing "It's a Boy!" rather than making us read the entire post?


charming gardener said...

if you were on facebook, you'd already know! So there.

Dear Andy,

It is going to be a boy!



charming gardener said...

um, which andy?

Anonymous said...

Andy, even I'm on facebook...and joined solely to get the news on the baby.


Anonymous said...

I'm going to buy your baby a denim onsie and a denim blanket.