Mom Bod

You've also found yourself craving food you'd used to avoid at all costs—the other night you suggested ordering Indian food and I had to ask if you were actually OK.

To my delight, you've remained quite horny. This is good because, for example, when you've walked away from me and I see your hips and butt shimmy back and forth I absolutely just want to jump your bones and have my way with you. You've never had a problem with me taking and so when I grab your shoulder and wrap my arm around your belly while kissing the back of your neck, you absolutely melt in my arms. Reciprocating my desire for you has never been an issue in our relationship whether you were pregnant or not, but it seems like the stakes have been raised as it were and while you've been pregnant, sex for us has become very emotionally intense for both of us.

You've also been masturbating more. The episode you had two months ago in the shower has become a more regular occurrence as you've found it a good moment for you to blow off steam. I had no idea it was going on until a few days ago when I came into the bathroom while you were in the shower and heard you breathing heavily and gently moaning. I pulled open the curtain to see if you were OK and you curled up, almost a little embarrassed that I'd caught you. But of course seeing you there, naked, pregnant and soapy wet with one hand grabbing your breast and the other hand running across your belly and down in your crotch got me totally rock hard. I asked if you wanted to continue. You nodded yes. I asked if I could watch. You nodded yes. So you went back to it. You seemed a bit inhibited knowing I was watching you. I pulled out my cock and asked if you wanted me to masturbate while I watched you. You nodded yes. So I did. You in the shower and me sitting on the toilet, we masturbated in front of each other, finishing with you moaning and sliding down onto the shower floor as you climaxed and me standing up and shooting my load onto your big pregnant belly as you grinned and rubbed my cum into your skin. It was a wonderful way to begin the day.

Month 7

You're now seven months pregnant and you look and feel every bit of it. Maybe it's because I see you every day but I kind of feel like we woke up one morning and your belly just exploded. But the photos I've been taking of you twice a week, both dressed and undressed, tell a different story.

Irregardless, you're huge. And it amazes you that you feel the way you do, but you absolutely love it. True, it helps that I'm constantly telling you how beautiful I think you look. But you've never felt as sexy as you do right now and you have no shame admitting it.

You've been going to see your doctor on a more regular basis now that you're further along. Our little girl is doing wonderfully inside your womb. She rolls and kicks and thumps you constantly which gives you such a warm, gushy feeling. You've started singing to her—perhaps in order to get her accustomed to your taste in music—and more than once I've caught you sitting on the floor in what will be her bedroom, idly rubbing your belly and singing away, with a contented, peaceful look on your face. I stealthily recorded a short video of you doing this. You've made me promise to never upload it anywhere.

A few days ago you saw what must have been a foot or a knee poke out around your ribs on the left side. You grabbed me and immediately put my hand on your belly so I could feel it but she stopped. We tried to shift and poke your belly a little to get her to do it again, but to no avail.

It's warmed up a bit more now—this is one of the parts of third trimester pregnancy you had feared—and clothing has started to become an issue. Your preferred attire—Airism tees or something similarly stretchy and some jeans—doesn't work with your current figure. You tried it out once a couple of weeks ago. You'd already been rocking the maternity jeans with the stretchy patch in the front, so you figured you'd be safe in the tee, but once you got on the subway to go to work, you were horrified to feel the shirt riding halfway up your belly. So you pulled it down and—Hello there!—were instantly greeted by boobs bouncing up in your face. Sheepishly, you made an emergency trip to H&M before going to work.

Since then, you've been dressing a bit more "loosely," shall we say. At home, all bets are off. It's tank tops and panties, or you stuff yourself into a nightgown as soon as you get home. That's, of course, if you feel like putting clothing on at all, which isn't always the case. You already know I won't complain.

Intimacy for us has been absurdly good of late. Yes, I have had the bias of a fetish for pregnancy and that has something to do with it, but beyond that, I feel a deeper emotional connection to you than I ever had before.

You have a similar feeling. We always knew we wanted to have children together. This was something we planned for. And yes, it took us a little longer and it was more of a struggle than we would have liked for you to get pregnant, but now that you are, the experience has been better than you or I could have imagined it to be. It's our daughter that's grown—and continues to grow—inside you and made you swollen and ungainly. It's our creation and I can't imagine having this experience with anyone else. I wouldn't want to. I have never desired you more.

When we have sex, it's become something purely animal. I find myself wanting to let you do things to me I never thought possible. You heft yourself on top of me and ride me, your belly grinding into my chest and teasing me into a frenzy. Or I put you on your knees and take you from behind so I can reach around and fill my arms with belly while I pound you until your voice lowers an octave in utter ecstasy.

Beyond sexual activity, we've tried some other amusing things in order to "memorialize" your pregnancy. You'd been watching some YouTube videos of pregnant women dancing and you told me you were feeling sort of bold and wanted to make one for yourself. So you jammed yourself into a tank top and a pair of your Yoga pants as you figured it would make you more aerodynamic as it were. You even picked out the song, that horrible "Hands to Myself" song that you love singing along with in the car. And you go and do your thing. It's 3 and a half minutes of you bouncing and shaking and shimmying and all variety of amusingly "sexy" dance moves until you run out of steam and collapse on the floor.

We go back and watch it. Your pants had slid down your ass and the tank top was totally useless as far as a device of coverage. Instead of making something funny to post online and share with your friends, you managed to make a porno movie. We agree to never show it to anyone.

And there's still a few months of fun left to be had.

Month 8

You're now eight months pregnant and all I can say is you sure look good. You don't always feel that way but keep reminding you otherwise. When I look at you, I feel like a lovestruck cartoon character, as though my eyes will turn into hearts and bug out.

You'd always been a bit on the round side for as long as I'd known you, so that pregnancy made you rounder wasn't so surprising. But as you've gone into your third trimester, the only way I can describe it is that you are an absolute pregnant goddess. Your curves have gotten curvier, your curly hair has become silky soft, your pale skin absolutely shines and don't even get me started on all the ways your body has rounded out. Your boobs have been expanding since day one and now they've begun to leak and drip a little bit. Your butt has become wider as your hips continue to expand. Everything else of course pales in comparison to your belly, which has grown so impossibly large I've run out of adjectives to describe it. But I can't get enough of it.

It's taken you a little time to adjust to this newer, albeit temporary, figure. You've found you need to be more mindful of spatial relations. You find you're constantly bumping your belly into doors or walls or even people because you're not quite used to having this enormous protrusion preceding your entrance into a room. You still manage to have fun with this; the other day I was in the kitchen and you wanted to get to the refrigerator, and you booped me out of the way with your belly. You thought it might be an effective way to get me to cooperate, but the problem is I enjoy it too much.

Generally, you're feeling well. You've still been getting to your yoga classes on a regular basis. You've had to modify things to accommodate for your growth but it's kept you flexible and comfortable, particularly into a time of your pregnancy where you were really concerned that you wouldn't be. You still have a good amount of energy, but as the weeks tick by and you continue to grow, you've found that you crash out much more often. You walk with a decided waddle now. Your hips still sway and your butt still shakes when you walk, but it's a much more subtle and gentle kind of movement.

Sleeping seems to have become substantially more difficult for you. You've always been a side or a stomach sleeper. While it's been a few months since you could sleep on your stomach, it's now become too difficult to sleep on your side and as such, you spend most nights kind of lying on your back or gently tilted on your left side, shifting around and trying to get comfortable. This usually results in your waking me up, and then it leads to me rubbing up your belly, getting all turned on, getting you turned on, and then we have sex. That seems to wear you out and get you to sleep. That being said, when you do get to sleep, you are OUT.

You now see your doctor on a weekly basis. Our little girl is growing to be not-so-little now—already pushing six pounds—and bops around inside you with a ferocity. I've been accompanying you to every appointment now, mostly because I want to know that you are both still doing well, but I'm also fascinated—and, yes, kind of turned on—by watching your doctor examine you. So I like watching you get felt up as it were, and seeing your belly get poked and prodded by another woman. You've begun to find it kind of amusing.

It helps that everything has been going wonderfully well for both you and our baby. She's gotten herself head down, which is helpful, and I think she's already started to take after her mother, since much like you, she seems to like to roll and stretch out. We can now see her moving inside your belly on a regular basis. Generally it's a little lump—a foot, maybe a knee, that sticks out on your right side sort of around your ribs. That area has become very sensitive but you absolutely melt every time you see her pop out like that.

We continue to try and have as much pregnancy-related fun as possible, as you start to get closer to the end. You made another pregnant dance video—this time you dressed a little better—and it turned out hilariously well. You did your thing, bouncing and grinding, but about halfway through the song, you kind of tired out, sat down on the floor and, out of breath, gestured for me to stop filming. But I didn't. Instead I laughed at you. You flipped me off and made a snarky comment about what a jerk I was for doing this to you. My response was, simply, "You know you love it." Then I cut the tape.

We'd begun shopping for baby furniture in earnest about a month ago, but of course these decisions are difficult to make. We started with the basics and made a trip to Ikea on a Saturday—which is never a good idea—and between the options and the proliferance of other pregnant women doing the same thing was kind of overwhelming. After a mild panic attack we re-grouped and decided we'd be better off doing more research at home and then venturing out to the stores. But we got it done—the crib, the dresser, the rocking chair and all. The decorating I leave to you.

You've already spent a bit of time sitting in our baby's room envisioning things. Now I see you sitting in the rocking chair silently plotting things out. Or you sit there rubbing your belly and singing to her. I could watch you do that forever.

Clothing options continue to be a bit of a battle for you, particularly since at this point in your pregnancy you seem to get larger on an almost daily basis. It doesn't help that the calendar has flipped to June and it's pretty hot out. T-shirts alone aren't doing the job anymore. We discovered this the hard way when we went grocery shopping. You had already packed yourself into the tee good and proper, but the second you hit the freezer section, it was "Hello, nipples." Then, you started to feel cold, wet spots on your shirt. You felt embarrassed and conspicuous and hid behind me as much as you could until we got home. You're still wearing tees, but you've since wised up and started wearing something on top of it. You're not crazy about adding layers when you already feel like an oven but it has to be done.

You find you need my help with things more and more. You can dress yourself well enough, but after a full day of work and trekking home on the subway, it seems like you lose that. Multiple times I've come home to find you lying on the bed waiting for me because you can't maneuver yourself to get your shoes off. Or your pants. Showering is also tough and lately, you've been asking me to get in the shower with you so I can wash some of your now-harder-to-reach areas. You should have known better. Inviting your husband and his raging pregnancy fetish to soap up and scrub down your heavily pregnant body was just asking for trouble. Of course I happily agreed to do so but as soon as I started rubbing and scrubbing all your naked, pregnant curves I got hard and, well, let's just say we both enjoy pregnant, soapy shower sex. But, the upside is that your body has never been cleaner.

Month 9

It's now July, and a lot of key dates for us seem to be running together at once. Our anniversary is coming up, as is your birthday. And, oh by the way, you're now 9 months pregnant. So we will soon have another date to add to that list. We just don't know when, exactly, it's going to be.

It's a nerve-wracking time. To say both of us are going through a period of severe anxiety would be an understatement. The impending birth of our daughter has been dominating our thoughts for a while, but now that it's right in front of us, it seems to be more or less all we can focus on. There's the anxiety about the process of you giving birth, which is one thing. That's been freaking you out like crazy, which given everything you've read and learned in the lamaze classes we've been going to is more than understandable. It freaks me out too—not quite in the same way but I already plan on doing whatever I possibly can to keep you relaxed and sane when the time comes. The pain, I can do nothing about.

Then, there's the part after that. You know, when we're Mom and Dad and actually have a baby here. For as much as we'd mentally prepared ourselves for this—even before you were pregnant—having it right in front of us (quite literally in your case) is absolutely terrifying. We try to talk about our concerns—both logical and fantastic—as much as possible. It's not all nerves, though. We both feel incredibly excited on top of this. We're both looking forward to her being born, getting to look at her and name her and love her to pieces. Looking forward to being a family.

You started slowing down a bit over the last few weeks and, really, now you're done. We knew it was going to hit you at some point. You're huge and uncomfortable, you feel sweaty and gross most of the time and you're leaking in all sorts of odd places. You're intermittently struck with intense pangs of hunger, followed by nausea, and basically everything you eat results in fits of belching and/or farting. Most days, you're over being pregnant and sometimes you've been known to hold your belly and shout, "OK, you can come out now!" As much as I try to pump you up and keep you positive, it only gets you so far.

Physically, you continue to grow all over the place—albeit not quite at the same rate as you were a couple of months ago—but there's no mistaking the fact that you're ready to pop. You ran a tape measure around your belly just for kicks last weekend and it came out at 49″. We could only laugh. You've referred to yourself as "comically huge." I'm so dumbstruck by you these days that I often stare at you and lose my train of thought. You're at that point where you are so pregnant, when we go out and walk around people are constantly glancing at you. Women, both with and without children look at you and smile, others sort of do double takes. We can't help but chuckle to each other about it but it turns me on like crazy the way you get noticed—because for as much as people look at you, I'm the only one who gets to have you.

Both you and our daughter inside you are hanging in—at your last doctor's appointment she was estimated as 8 pounds and of course that made you even more anxious as you thought about the birth process. You've been getting Braxton-Hicks contractions semi-regularly. Sometimes, they've been strong enough to stop you in your tracks and more than once you were getting several per hour. But then they stop. Overall, though, you're healthy and she's healthy and really that's the most important thing. At 36 weeks, your doctor said she could basically come at any time and that would be OK. We have to play the waiting game and be patient.

We can still feel her moving around inside you, but now, it's different. She's run out of room in your womb and her head has dropped down. Instead of feeling kicks and lumps, it's more rolling and shifting. You describe it as "flopping" or "booping." Your belly itself is totally firm and very tight. You have some stretch marks creeping up the underside but for the most part they're very light-colored. It's gone from round to kind of oblong and continues to mostly stick straight out which makes you appear even more pregnant than you actually are. And you're already really, really pregnant.

You haven't had much of an appetite lately, or at least not a regular one. One day, you ate nothing but water and crackers since that seemed to be all you could keep down without feeling nauseous.

Then, there was our anniversary. I wanted to take you out someplace nice, but I knew we would kind of have to play it by ear. That day, you texted me from work saying that you'd had an insane craving for tacos all day and could we go to your favorite Mexican place after work. Not quite the fancy evening I'd intended but I was not going to argue with you. And of course after hardly eating the few days prior, you completely stuffed yourself with tacos and chips and salsa and you were ready to dig in to my plate of fajitas too. Then, you wanted to stop for frozen yogurt on the way home. The level of flatulence you exhibited later was, you said, a small price to pay. Given the opportunity for more tacos, you'd do it again.

For your birthday, I got you a spa day, which you really deserved. You've been so hot and heavy and sore that you just needed to lie down and be pampered for a little while and there was a place near your office downtown that offered a package that seemed appropriate for a pregnant woman. You got a massage, multiple skin treatments on your face and feet and everyplace else you wanted, and even got to hop in a pool and swim for a while. You said it was exactly what you needed and came home feeling invigorated and actually a little bit horny. I said I was sorry I'd missed you in a bathing suit. You reminded me I see you naked enough anyway.

Horny is something you'd decidedly not been over the past couple of weeks, which was understandable. You felt badly that you hadn't felt up to doing much, or at least not very often. I'd have none of that and told you that there was nothing for you to feel bad about. We could still fool around, but we needed to just be a little more creative about it. Full-on sex hasn't happened that much but we've discovered gentler methods like mutual masturbation can be just as effective. Far be it from me to have an issue with your suggestion that I rub cocoa butter on your belly using body parts other than my hands. I'm also still bathing you, and we've even tried getting in the tub together and taking a bath. That was wonderful, as the water made you feel lighter and more buoyant as you sat on top of me.