When that first positive appeared on the stick, one of the first things I envisioned was my growing belly. How would it look, how would it feel, would I like it? I was excited.
And then I was disappointed. Months passed, and my body felt just horrid and different on the inside but on the outside there was nothing. Four months in and nothing. I knew the baby was there. I had seen it. But my mind wasn’t believing it. It wanted proof. I had the horrible nausea and lost weight and all that… and no bump.
Finally, approaching my fifth month, it began to appear. And then all once, there it was! Almost overnight, making up for lost time. Popped right out. By my sixth month, I looked very pregnant.
Oh, the discomfort. But I had my bump. I still have my bump. I’m fascinated. I still can’t believe I have it. I flail my arms when trying to sit up. I waddle instead of walking now. I turn a million times each night. I have to wake up for each move. I have trouble breathing sometimes, sometimes I can’t eat as much as I would like. I have heartburn and indigestion most nights now. I can’t walk anywhere anymore. I can’t do much physically anymore. I haven’t seen my lady parts in a minute. I can’t sit up straight for very long.
But, I have my bump. My unbelievable bump. The one my baby is in. The one my baby kicks, the one I can rub and hold and feel better talking to. The one I can play music for. The one my husband and family hugs, rubs and talks to. My family talks to my bump by name. I like that. My growing, stretching bump.
I’m waiting now. Waiting for it to be time. Time for my bump to go away and my baby to appear. My baby. Now that I’ve had the bump, I’m ready for my baby.
Baby Reid coming soon….