I saw this posted on Facebook this morning, and while I can understand the sentiment, I have to admit that I have never felt like this. Now granted, I have not had a lot of strangers touch my belly, and the few who did had the decency to ask first, but I have always been so excited to bask in the glory and wonder of pregnancy that I never minded.
What makes this particularly weird is that I am very much a person who needs her space. Whenever my husband and I travel, I am always eager to get home after about two weeks because I just need to be back in an environment where people respect the bubble.
But when it comes to the belly or questions about our baby, I have to remind myself to rein in my enthusiasm and not talk the ear off of each kind person who takes what she thought would be only a moment to politely inquire about gender or due date. I just cannot help myself.
Rationally, I recognize that I am not the first woman to become pregnant and experience all the wonderful feelings - emotional and physical - that come with pregnancy, but I am just so overwhelmed by how awesome it all is that I find myself gushing on and on about it to anyone who will listen (or pretend to listen), including women who have had multiple children of their own and already know all about how fabulous it all is.
People often ask me if this is my first, as they ask with a knowing smile that seems to say that this must be my first child because I am so excited. But the funny thing is that I believe I could be like this with every single one of our children, just because that's how I am.
For example, my husband laughs at me when we go places because I get so excited over every hotel room and every little amenity that comes with it. Although we have done a lot of traveling in the past few years, I continue to exhibit this enthusiasm. As he once described it, "She walks into a hotel room and gets really excited when she sees that there is indeed a bed, a television, and a shower."
I do. I know it is ridiculous, but there is something so luxurious about staying in a hotel where someone comes and straightens up, empties your trash, and makes the bed. It never gets old.
Similarly, I can never imagine that pregnancy will wear on me. Even with all the aches and pains, it is the greatest experience I have ever had. Recently, my sister, a mother of two, and I had a conversation in which we discussed all of the aches, pains, and unpleasant side effects of being pregnant. She paused for a moment, then said, "Don't you just hate those women who say they love being pregnant?" To which I responded, "No, because I do. In spite of everything, I love it."
On that note, I am going back to bed. I was up almost all of last night alternating between searing pain in my chest - the kind caused by swollen breasts, not the scary kind - pelvic pain, and leg cramps. Ha!
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