baby, love the ladies

Seriously, people, pregnancy has made me love all of the temples of estrogen in my life more than ever. Women rock!

You wake up. You feel like crap. The baby boy has his tiny foot lodged against your bladder all day, and you think: "damn, how embarrassing. I am in the bathroom every 5 minutes. Argh." You want to growl, and sometimes laugh at how absurdly ridiculous and beautiful your life has become ('cause it really is beautiful).

It's humid. It's raining. You are super focused, weaving in and out of New York City's gray, skanky puddles, and some random woman, says, "are your expecting?"

You respond, meekly, "yes."

"I knew it. You are just so beautiful. You have the glow. Good luck. God bless. Do you know if it is a boy or a girl?"

And you think, "is she serious? My socks are soggy 'cause I forgot to put on my rain boots (another pregger bubble brain move). That lovely pregnancy induced zit on my cheekbone is red and rugged, and my fingers look like little sausage links (another joy, as random parts of the body retain water)."

But you simply say, "thank you. A boy."

She smiles, and keeps it moving.

You smile back. Really. One of those warm, fuzzy smiles. You still don't know what glow they're talking about, but they are all talking about it.

I thought it was the round, hard melon protruding from my cardigan, but if you say it's a glow, I'll go for it. Why not? Thank you, sis. Like, really-- thank you! You just made my day, lady. David says it all the time, but he is supposed to. It's like a contract. You get a girl pregnant, you damned well better make sure your worship the ground she walks on every day of her swollen life. I mean, David is naturally a sweetie, but strange eyes upon your swollen, lumpen mass feel kinder somehow. Like: ok, so I don't look like the really round, walking space cadet, I just know I must be.

So everyday, I give thanks for the sisters who walk the world in solidarity with us preggers.

Thank you, ladies!

God knows it helps to quell the testosterone-inspired tendencies (in my case) of the PreggerNator...'cause you all know that I am generally mellow and easy, but every so often, I roar in my Sagittarian glory, and Mari Raw can be found on a local station in your viewing area :) And the PreggerNator is worse! It takes a lot to bring her out, but it is no holds barred gangsta when she hits. [Sorry, guys. My tolerance for bs, or extraneous stress is pretty low these days.]

So, baby boy, you had better love the ladies like LL. They make Mommy's day just a little brighter. Brothers are sweet. They are cool, too. But truth be told, they are a little weirded out by the preggers among us. Maybe they had a PreggerNator in their life. Maybe their love and admiration is so great, it just overpowers their good, common sense. Either way, pregnancy is a great time for sister bonding. Girls need girls sometimes. And you, my little prince, need them too. Happy Mommy, happy baby.

And just knowing you are in there inspires love. Metta kind of love. The Buddha would be proud.

Every act of solidarity is a point of light in your little crown, baby boy, 'cause it is all love. One day you'll realize that some of us really are crazy, and others of us are a plain old mess. But the divine secret to all of us is that we just naturally give love. (We do-- unless you f*^% with us.) So love us, adore us, give thanks and remember that little lads must love the ladies.