As I dressed Saturday morning, Tessa could not resist. She zoomed up and wrapped her arms around my enormous dome and oh-so-gently rubbed her face into it.
“Ahhhhhh.” She crooned, “Soooo wahm!”
“I wish youh tummy was de whoh wide wouhld.”
That child has a way of making being as big as a planet feel like being the center of her tiny, precious universe.
"I'm useless." I complain.
"You are growing a human." Guy answers.
So after I sweep the patio, which takes far too long, I waddle to a chair and sit down. My skeleton feels like it is held together with zip ties. Contractions, some very hard, are now just a way of passing the time.
I sit and watch my family working. Guy cuts a million branches out of our insane Mulberry trees. The kids make forts with the branches, and pile up the extras. They laugh and fight and play leafy sword battles. Guy clips and mows and rakes. I watch.
I wish I could join them.