Five days past my due date now…ripe and heavily laden with the fruit of love.

Some people say pregnant women are gorgeous. WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE? AND HOW DO I TELL THEM TO FUCK OFF?

Poo poo to bullshit!

Every day is a new day. And today I want to start fresh…

Sometimes I think we get mired in our own bullshit, and it begins to stick to us. This collective turd stinks up our creativity, confidence and generally drags us down.

I guess I shouldn’t say ‘we’ because I don’t know for sure if it’s how you feel. But I’m sure if I feel this way, someone else does too.

So here’s a hearty ‘Poo poo to bullshit!’ Let's do something good!

Love,

Natasha

Dear Belly,

My Dad told me to say goodbye to my toes, that I wouldn’t see them for a while. It made me want to cry at the time, as if I was losing something very special.

I shouldn’t have been so upset, as I can see my toes just fine these days, when I turn my legs out to first position (that’s ballet talk for duck feet). Or if I lean forward, over you Belly, -aha!- I see my toes peeking back at me with bright pink nail polish. As for reaching them…well, I’ve pretty much given up picking anything up from the floor and I’m not good at painting my nails even at my most flexible, non-pregnant of times. This is why we have beauty parlors…Because we can’t always do it right, even when we try. Anyway, the kindly esthetitian who did my feet seemed completely unfazed by my unshaven legs and sausage toes.

That was nice of her…

Belly, we used to lay flat on my front and I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to that again! Just flipping over from side to side is a major chore now. I practically need a hoist to get up from horizontal these days.

It’s been a slice, but I have to say I’m ready to let the air out of this balloon. I’ve enjoyed the ride, but now that my navel looks like it is barely holding its seams together, I definitely need some relief. Seriously Belly…you just can’t grow indefinitely…I will either burst or go crazy and frankly I’ve already had the urge to hijack an operating room and force them to give me a cesarean. Hopefully nature will soon run its course and I won’t have to resort to such antics.

Yup…one way or another (and pretty soon, dear Belly) I get to trade you in for a baby and my period.

And I bet next time I stock up on Tampax I’ll suddenly get emotional and miss you.