Everyone I know is pregnant. It's kind of like how three years ago, everyone I know got married. Within a six week window. And it was like "COME ON! I am SO NOT going to wear this brown floor-length satin halter dress again. Or the "Lavender Mid-length." Or the "Salmon Strapless"
Ugh! Bridesmaid dresses! Ugh!
I digress. Even though I don't want to digress. Because bridesmaid dresses are too easy to write about. And I have a grip of those mofos hanging in my closet becoming more outdated as the days pass and what's a girl to do? Perhaps I should try them all on for James Marsden and then post a montage, here, in place of a blog post?
No? Okay then. Moving on.
As I was saying, everyone I know is pregnant. Which makes me very overly-attentive and interested in everyone. In a way that is probably annoying. Because I'm stalking every pregnant woman I know with baby names and unsolicited boxes of maternity clothes and "Hey? Were you sleeping? Just... checking in to see if you have morning sickness!"
"Actually, Bec? It's 6am. I was sleeping."
"But not for looooooooong... When that baby arrives you will be up at all hou...."
Click.
"... Hello? HELLOOOOOOOOOO?!"
Part of it has to do with excitement. I waited a long time and spent a lot of energy trying to brainwash my single friends into joining "the cult of parenthood" and now that everyone's joining I feel like I have to force-feed them kool-aid.

But also? (And here's the kicker.) I miss being pregnant. I miss the feeling - the giddy excitement for the unknown, the anal (hot!) clean-freak nesting... I miss being bloated and crampy and arguing over baby names with Hal who willingly rubbed my swollen feet as I watched Discovery Health. I miss the feeling. The kicks and the nudges and the OH GOD! I WANT ANOTHER ONE! SOB!
So if you're my friend and you're reading this and you hate me for calling and probing and touching your belly and lending you strollers you don't need and naming your child, please know that it's coming from a good and genuine place called: jealousy love. And jealousy! excitement!
Because soon? You will give birth and I will steal your baby I will stop with the crazy.
As long as you name her Reverie Shalom Beatrice III and call her "Vera-Sha-Bea" for short.
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