in the beginning
Already there are things I love about being pregnant: the bond I feel with my husband. The way red meat tastes. Not having to suck in my stomach. Cleavage.
All of the decisions, from where to have the baby to which prenatal tests to have. The scale. My suddenly sluggish sex drive. The prospect that I might be watching Oprah one afternoon and start crying and never stop. Stretch marks. Having a daughter. Not having a daughter. The next 30 weeks. Labor and delivery. The next 18 years.
But here’s the way I look at it: This is what my body was built for. And thank God for cleavage.