Expecting | 26 Weeks

I know that much has been made of that increased sex drive some women are blessed with during pregnancy.  But is there a such thing as an increased romance drive?  I think I have that.  I have found myself collecting songs about Us (we Wolfpeople, that is), which I never thought to do while we were wooing each other, or as our wedding approached (that two week period between proposal and court house).  But now, I listen to “Leather & Lace” sitting on our friend Metal Commander’s front porch, blasting from the stereo through his open window and think, yes, this is about us.  I hear a snippet of “Here Comes the Sun” and remember Wolfman texting me, a million years ago, that as Bobby Good strummed that song absently on an acoustic, he was thinking of me.   I hear “Danny’s Song” in the grocery and I sing along and my eyes well up a little.  (Have I mentioned that I am convinced this baby of ours is a little boy?)

This is me, 26 weeks pregnant, planning frozen custard dates during a Spring full of babies—baby Ella, Xena’s second litter, this bean inside me who kicks every time I sneeze at the pollen.  Even Sunday naps seem romantic, my man and me nestled together, the dog tucked into the crook of his body, and a little space in reserve where I tell my boys our baby will soon be.  We will be a family of four (plus all these cats, who don’t really count because they wouldn’t want to be counted, if asked).

When Wolfman and I find ourselves on the Tobacco Trail again, both of us quietly appreciating its flatness and lack of obstacles (rocks, tree roots) as my belly swells week by week, our hands brush together and fingers intertwine like when we were getting to know each other.  I tell him that he is my favorite thing about my life, having him and loving him so much.  And he points to my belly and says, “Soon that will be your favorite thing about your life.”  It’s so hard to imagine, but I’m beginning to understand, and be overwhelmed by, the vast stores of love inside me I have to give—to my husband, to my dog, to my niece, to this baby I’m growing now, to any babies that may come after.   

Also, I am getting really good at burping.  

With Gizzard, Xena's kitten who is not such a kitten anymore.