it does a body good

ladies, sistas, mujeres (especially the ones that have pushed a little watermelon sized thing out of the sacred shrine called your nani),

[Sorry boys, you might not get this one but it might help you get us.]

Holy isht! Pregnancy is real. As I was saying in an earlier blog, this is the first week in which my pants almost don't fit. Thanks to the bella band and belly belt, I can still still keep hope alive and rock my favorite Michael Kors jeans, but ooooh, I am pushing it. When this little boy decides to roll up into a ball and tuck himself into my side, I can hardly sit up straight. My food (which takes too damned long to digest) makes its away up my digestive tract and I distinctly feel my organs (and other things I am sure God/dess did not intend on moving in the original design). Whew! It is real.

My ass- that which God/dess blessed me with plenty of to begin with- is wider. My hips are rounder (why?!), and my thighs seems to have become home for the avocado and rice bowls that assuage my hunger when everything else gives me indigestion. Candela!

And let's not talk about the boobs. Jesus! Is it really possible to grow an entire size and a half in (almost) 6 months?

I am going through it y'all. I am not quite upset, just tripping at how quickly the body changes. The sleek life cycle sitting on its ass in my living room, hasn't seen this ass yet!

I just want to sleep, or daydream. I walk into rooms and forget why. My world is happily spinning along, as my body sprouts an extra this or that. Who wants to cycle? I mean, I do, but not really.

And in all of this, I think about "the good old days". I mean the ones before marriage (smile)- when my round Puerto Rican booty was tempered by a much smaller waist and just right boobs. Just enough to keep my man focused. I am going to have serious work to do after this little man makes his way out. Gotta work it out. Literally.

But as I think about these changes and the little swimmer swirling his way around inside of me, I am so grateful that I can carry him there. Comfortably. I hate cramped spaces and David is semi-claustrophobic, so I know that Dede is grateful for the extra room. In my pregnancy induced stupor, I occasionally imagine that he is hiding a little sister in there, too. Protecting her and keeping her until she is ready to show her face to the world. [A private girl, like her momma.]

[True confession: I had a dream 2 weeks ago that I gave birth to twins! A boy and a girl! Boy, was I sweating! Can you imagine? a Little surprise on June 1st? "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Hernaiz! You have an extra baby in there!"]

Ay, Dios! Candela!

So anyway, in all of this, I am thankful. Not just for Dede, for whom I will give thanks every day of my life, but for this new relationship with my butt- and every other part of me.

I am learning to be forgiving. Things grow-- and they shrink... eventually... if you help them along. :) But the body is wise. It knows its function. Its gifts exist beyond the aesthetic, and what you see, or wish you saw.

Somehow with all of my roundness, folks still manage to find "the glow", or say how beautiful pregnant women are- and I am.

We are. Round booties and all, in tow. And how perfect that I can give thanks for it. Love it. Enjoy it. And those avocados! :)

And the big, round belly inching its way past the waistband of my favorite jeans is the most beautifullest thing in this world.

Pregnancy-
It does a body good.