a pregnant pause | the sorority of sorts

I’m in. I’m finally in the club, the group, the camaraderie of waddling women!

While waiting for our table at a local eatery, she walked by – another chic with her future kiddo happily lingering inside its watery haven, pressing on her bladder, kicking her kidneys, while carousing along with the dizzy spells and mother-load of cravings– and then she smiled and did “the nod”. You know, the nod bikers have when they breeze past each other on the open road, recognizing that they’re of a relatively small population in this world, who find the words “crotch-rocket” both offensive and invigorating, and they know they need to stick together. Yep. It was that nod.

I, of course, smiled and nodded back with the rush of pride making me feel as though I should stand taller and stick out my already quite rotund protrusion even farther.

So step aside, create a path, I’m in the family way, and I’ve officially made it!

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