It seems, these days, every mom-to-be needs a belly shot. Simply Google 34-week belly, and you’ll see more pregnant bellies than you ever thought possible. Maybe Demi Moore did this for us 17 or so years back when she posed naked with one of her pregnant bellies. And now, the tabloids simply obsess about any celebrity’s bump, real or imagined.
I have to say, I don’t really enjoy being pregnant. Some women seem to love this state of being. Maybe my lack of love has something to do with the 34 weeks of nausea that I’ve experienced, or the sciatic nerve pain that’s cropped up again (experienced also with pregnancy number one), or the fact that my “irritable uterus” seems to need to contract incessantly from about 24 weeks on. These contractions wouldn’t be half bad if they were actually doing something useful, like giving my stomach muscles a workout or something of that nature. Alas, the contractions don’t seem to be serving any purpose at all. Thankfully, they haven’t been working on dilating my cervix yet. After two trips to the hospital (at 20 and 32 weeks) with pre-term labor symptoms, I may not even have this baby until his mid-September due date. But, nope, I don’t really enjoy the pregnant state. I miss feeling light, strong, and in control of my own body, taking steps two at a time and hiking up steep slopes. I do know, however, that this is the last baby that my body will gestate, so a belly photo is kind of a must.
Be well, baby. Be well.