I love pregnancy.
I love new life and the idea that God is knitting together an amazing person inside of me. I feel honored to be a vessel for that. A home to a miracle.
That’s probably why I get all swoon-y over other mama’s bellies. They’re magic. And beautiful. All of them. When I scroll through my Instagram feed and see a bare belly, I always give it a heart, a little nod to the camaraderie between us. When I’m not pregnant, I almost always leave a comment too; because I’m yearning and remembering and most likely looking down at my now soft belly while hugging the bouncing child that used to be inside me.
But when it comes to my own bare belly, I don’t share as often. Why?
I snapped this photo while in the dressing room at the Lululemon Outlet (yep, those exist and I got bras that fit my expanding pregnant rib cage for just $24 and shorts that will be perfect and comfy for this summer for $32!). I sent it to my sister (who was waiting in the car with sleeping children) and Dominic because I felt awesome … may have even added a hashtag to my text along the lines of #mombabe.
I’m in that phase of mid-pregnancy where my growing belly doesn’t impede much, but I’m still obviously pregnant. The golden days of pregnancy. I love it. And with this being my last pregnancy, I’m super sappy over seeing this season of my life end. I’m excited for what will come next. You know, when I wear Lululemon to actually work out rather than lounge in. But man, I’ll forever being the gal who asks if you want to hear my birth stories or, if we’re real close, see the up close and personal photos.
So, here’s to the photo I wasn’t going to post. The one with my stripes glimmering. The one with my crazy belly button. The one that represents 3 born babies and a 4th half way done.
Now that I’ve taken the bare belly leap, I’m guessing many more are to come — sorrynotsorry — especially since this is my first summer pregnancy in a house without AC! Lord, bring on the coolest summer the Pacific Northwest has ever seen!