The Mirror

Sometimes I forget that I am pregnant. From my perspective, looking down, my belly does not seem that big. It just seems like I have been drinking too much beer.  Then, I catch a reflection of myself and realize how unmistakenly knocked up I really am. Other mornings, I wake up and roll out of bed thinking it's just another day. Then I see my naked, bulging self in the mirror and think, "Oh, yeah, right. I've got two people in me." Not an average day for anyone.

Two. One for each tit. One for each arm. One for AM, one for PM. One for good, one for bad. The question is, will there be two of us to take care of them? Sometimes, you take a step back and look at your life only to discover that it is not what you had expected it to be. I'm a daughter of the Womens' Lib movement, a 70's girl who was raised to resist the feminine and avoid the pitfalls of my mother's generation. Yet, when I assess my situation, I realize that I do almost all the cooking, absolutely all the cleaning, all the laundry, and all other things domestic in my home while running a custom cabinet business- more than a full time job. We really have made no progress.

If my sixteen year old self could have seen a picture of me right now, she probably would have committed suicide.