I find myself getting ready to return back to my pre-pregnancy body. I went through my tight jeans which have been stashed away for almost nine months. My eyes widen with pleasure as my fingers glide across my strappy tank tops. I've been buying clothes here and there. A black crochet halter top for summertime. Just yesterday, I won and paid for a gorgeous tank top with a photo print on the front of a city skyline and neon lights below. I even bought a patent leather-like pink stud collar...not for everyday wear of course...it's in anticipation for future kick-ass concerts I want to go to with Matt. Anticipation in feeling really fun and sexy again.
This is in preparation for returning to my old self (physically). I miss my body so much sometimes. But then. How I cherish and adore my huge tender belly. It will be mine for only a handful of days more. In all likelihood, I will never feel this way again. Matt and I think that two children is just about perfect. And it makes me nostalgic and sad. I have to remember all of this. All of the baby movements (she kicks me all day long straight into the night). The wavelike ripples which you can actually see spread across my skin as the baby moves. It's WILD. The nausea (which has been over for many months now). The aversion to foods (which right now is chicken, fish, and sometimes ham). The difficulty in getting around (especially getting out of bed). My roundness (and boy am I round!). My popped belly button. The fact that a female human body is so cool that it can create new life. I am amazed. I respect what a body can do.
Pregnancy only lasts nine months. Tight jeans can last your whole life. I am holding my belly right now. I adore it. I will miss it. I already miss it. I will never forget.
And now...
I love you my baby. I can't wait to see you in my arms.