The last few weeks, my daughter has been pointing out to me that my belly is “big.” And it is. It is also much rounder than my garden variety fat gut used to be. My belly is taking the shape of a (rather large) “bun in the oven.”  However, I am not pregnant. I am done with that bearing babies part of my life, although a huge part of me would love to have another.  Being pregnant felt soooo good, and I loved looking down at my growing belly with silent pride and amazement.Now the belly is simply fat, the last vestige of my second born augmented by nightly desserts and scavenged kids plate leftovers. And although I think I should be horrified by this extra weight, on some level, I like it. It reminds me of a pleasant time, even though nothing is coming out of there but a desire to buy bigger jeans.

BTW, the Ina May book was a fantastic read when I was pregnant. Highly recommended for all expectant moms.