A World of Pregnancy Pt. 04

Having utilized the pregnant men's support group to give me hope in tougher months, I feel I should return the favor and grace them with my current good spirits. I think I've made enough progress over the past few months that I can spread some around now. Wes accompanies me to the church basement. Including the two of us, there are seven folks in attendance. I eye-fuck the massively pregnant man that speaks before me, loving the way his gargantuan bump strains the buttons of his dress shirt. Hardly a word he says registers with me through my horniness. Maybe some of these folks will eye-fuck me rather than listen to what I say? I welcome either type of attention, frankly, so I'm fine with the thought. He stops talking, and I begin:

"Hi! I'm Alex, I'm non-binary, and I'm 7 months pregnant. Starting out, I was nervous about pregnancy being too feminine, not wanting to go too far in that direction. Then, I was nervous that I wasn't showing, not giving off those feminine signals I was scared of at first, because I'm fat and wasn't showing as early as some pregnant folks do. Things balance out, though. The past month or two, things have been awesome. I love being pregnant. I love the femininity. I love my fat ass, made truly amazing now by the wonders of pregnancy.

"I guess what I want to say to anyone who's struggling right now with any aspect of this process is that it gets better. It might sound cliche, but it's true. Every single preggo I've seen here in their third trimester has had an equivalent story: some struggles at the beginning, usually gender-related, and eventually really enjoying the changes their bodies are undergoing. I didn't think it would go that way for me. I was pessimistic, I figured these people were luckier or more well-adjusted than I am.

"But no. It got better for me, despite my negativity. So hang in there, even if you don't believe what I'm saying is going to be true for you. You'll find something to enjoy in all this, and you'll treasure it. Thanks for listening, I'll be around if you want to talk at all after the meeting!"

I feel good about my speech, and I think I've impressed Wes as a bonus. No one comes over to talk to me after the meeting, but I'm still optimistic that I got through to at least one person in the room. I'm glad I came.

Month 8

My belly button popped, and I have a cute little outie now! I'm wearing even tighter tops than usual, thrilled to see my navel sticking out so prominently at the front of my lovely bump. Just as exciting, my milk has come in...and I am spraying it absolutely everywhere. I spray it on my partners' necks when they're facing away from me for a fun prank. I spray it on just about everything during sex (it makes a poor lubricant, by the way, in case you were thinking of trying that out). I'm getting a real kick out of it, both humorously and sensually.

Not to mention the fact that the milk has swollen my tits considerably more, and my nipples have grown out a half inch in preparation for delivering milk to the baby. More and more Braxton Hicks contractions going on, too, which I love: the intense belly hardness they provoke turns me way on, and fascinates me as it condenses my bump into its most compact possible form. Amazing changes, way into all of it.

At this moment, the entire throuple is pregnant and showing. Wes just hit the 4 month mark, and his cute little bump is a new joy in our household, receiving a great deal of attention from both Gretchen and myself. Gretchen is positively full-term, her massive and perfectly-shaped bump hindering all but the slowest and simplest of movements. I'm not so far off from her in my 8th month, knocking things over with my ungainly form and having to sit down for a break after standing up for two or three minutes.

Wes is the only one with any energy and range of motion to speak of at the moment, so he's doing all the heavy lifting around the house, particularly in the sex department. I think we've got the least-pregnant-person-takes-care-of-the-others system down pretty well at this point, and, for the very pregnant folks, the lift-your-massive-belly-out-of-the-way-so-someone-can-access-your-genitals system has been nicely perfected. I can't comfortably get myself off at this point, and I'm sure Gretchen, substantially out-sizing me, can't reach down there at all.

We can both occasionally exert the energy required to lift our bumps away from our crotches for a few minutes, though, and Wes goes right to work once we've cleared paths for him. He's been great at eating my pussy since the first time we slept together, but he's a diligent lover and has managed to steadily improve his method. Good work ethic on that guy; I'll be sure to return the favor in a few months.

Month 9

Yesterday, Gretchen gave birth. Luckily for Wes and me, the hospital was cool about our throuple situation, allowing both of us into the delivery room. It was the first vaginal birth I've seen, and it was an immense honor to be in its immediate presence. Gretchen only had to labor intensely for about 90 minutes, luckily, and there were no complications or issues of any kind. Seeing the female anatomy accommodate childbirth is awe-inspiring. I wasn't grossed out or scared for my future experience whatsoever, just in awe of Gretchen's accomplishment.

Having a new life enter the world in the same room as you is...well, indescribable, honestly, to the detriment of this journal. Sorry about that! I think I'll have the sound of the baby crying for the first time in my head for the rest of my life. Gretchen's pain through the labor certainly didn't escape me, but I'm a lot less scared of that aspect than I am excited to have the birth experience for myself next month. Can't fucking wait!

Wes is at 5 months, his cute and hairy belly a pleasure to behold. He's not as interesting at the moment as birth-giving Gretchen or full-term humongous me, so no need to give him much coverage this month. He'll be more interesting once he's the only preggo in the house, naturally.

My due date is next week. I've gained 42 pounds as of this morning, which happens to be the upper limit of how much they recommend an obese person gains with twins. So, more than they think I should've gained by a decent margin. They are wrong, in my humble opinion, because I'm looking seriously hot and feeling quite healthy. All the aforementioned parts of me have continued growing at an ever-increasing pace, providing me a seriously thick 250-pound stature.

Even being massive at this point, I've somehow avoided stretch marks. I've got nothing against stretch marks, per say, but I absolutely love my blemish-free smoothness. The bump starts immediately under my boobs and quickly shoots out to a solid 18 inches of protuberance, which it maintains all the way down to 3 inches below my outie belly button. It's hugely round and massively heavy, obscuring the entirety of my unkempt pubic hair when I'm standing and stretching two-thirds of the way to my knees when I'm sitting. I'm gigantic and loving it, despite the discomfort and inconveniences.

Epilogue

I've given birth! The experience was truly amazing. I was having contractions for about 36 hours before they got close enough for us to go to the hospital, where I pretty quickly made it into the pushing stage. I only had to push for 25 minutes, luckily. Incomparable pain, severe anxiety about everything going smoothly, lifetime-high level exhaustion: it was all there, and it didn't tarnish the magic much at all. I certainly won't remember the difficult parts anywhere near as vividly as I'll remember the miracle of it all. Especially not being someone who identifies as female, I really didn't think this was something I'd ever get to do.

Again, I don't know how to adequately write about this transcendent experience, even less so now that it was from my own body. From my genitals and through my physical pain, a new person came into the world. Because I forgot to practice safe sex when I fucked some guy 9 months ago. The world is beautiful in the most unexpected ways.