The days have been uncharacteristically warm and sunny here. So I’ve been out and about, in public.

I’m big. Large enough to attract stares and inspire comments. Questions.

On the street walking past the sidewalk seating of a cafe, a waiter called after me, when’s the big day? D had no idea what he meant at first.  Soon, was my polite answer, hesitant. But I had the uneasy feeling that I didn’t know what we were really talking about.

In a bookstore, the owner spotted me and piped up about their mom-and-baby group that meets every Wednesday. Oh, and their children’s book section is downstairs, if I’d like to have a look. Now, why would you think I’d want to do that?

There’s a continuity that’s been cut, a chain of events broken inside my brain. To me, this huge belly is simply its own phenomenon, having nothing to do with baby books, big days of arrival and birth announcements.

Inside, someone’s there. Growing and moving. I just have no idea if they’re here to stay. Could they be here to stay? It’s not what I know. And frankly, I can’t imagine what that might be like.

Giant squirming belly, then small, squirming baby. What an incredibly strange idea. Foreign and unfathomable.

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