Rebecca's Story Pt. 02

The Theater business in New York can be kind of slow in the Summer. That's one reason I don't much mind being pregnant and giving birth during those months. It's not like I'm missing out on tons of jobs, unless I took one out of town, but now that I'm a mom (and about to be a mom again), my days of that are over.

John, on the other hand, gets kind of stir-crazy if he goes too long without a show, and so when he took the one he's working on now, we sat and talked about it. He wanted to make sure I was comfortable with it, since he'd be in tech and previews kind of late in this pregnancy, but the show would open when I'd be 34 weeks. I said it was OK. It's not as though he'd be leaving town. More importantly, I'd get to come to an Opening Night reception and show off my pregnantness, and really, how could I pass that up?! Tonight's now that night and I'm feeling nice and pregnant for the occasion.

As usual, I'm slow to rise this morning. I can hear John in the other bedroom, talking to Hannah. They have full-on conversations nowadays. Planning world domination—that's what he says they talk about. He talks, and then I hear her forming words. These sounds absolutely make my heart melt.

I'm lying in bed, kind of half-uncovered, my left leg exposed and my belly sticking straight up. My head is slightly inclined on a pillow. I feel daughter #2 stirring inside me and I start to rub my belly. She starts early. I know I've said that before. We've been thinking more and more about names. Hannah came to us easily but for this one it's more a challenge. We bat around ideas nightly. Penelope ("Too whimsical," he says)? Hallie ("We already have an 'H' name," I say)? It might end up being a game-time decision. I hope it doesn't come to that.

John comes into the bedroom. I look up at him and smile. He sits down on the edge of the bed next to me.

"And how are we this morning?" he says, locking his hand in mine on my belly.

"We are doing wonderfully," I say, "But we have a busy day ahead of us."

"You're seeing your doctor at 2, right?"

"Yup. I'll make sure to FaceTime you in."

"So long as Chase lets us on break on time!"

Chase is Stage Managing for John on this show. I've known Chase for years—he was a wide-eyed little kid when we met and he was my ASM for more shows than I can remember.

"I'll make sure he gets the memo," I say with a devilish grin.

John leans over and cradles my belly in his arm. He puts his head down on me, his ear right above my belly button. I touch his head.

"Can you actually hear anything when you do that?" I ask.

"Mostly your stomach gurgling," he says, "Her moving around is kind of noiseless."

He turns his head and rubs his face on my belly. I sigh. His face is smooth—he shaved this morning. I start to get a little flush. Him loving on me this way really gets me going. He does it all the time nowadays.

"I can't wait for tonight," I say.

"It'll be fun—Chase is really looking forward to seeing you and so are Kate and Tony."

"Yeah, I can't wait to see them either, but that's not quite what I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, after tonight, the show'll be open and I get my husband back so he can give me pregnant belly cuddles all day long."

"Mmm...yes, I'm looking forward to that too."

I take his hands and pull, sliding myself upward so I'm seated a little more. I reach over, take my glasses off the nightstand and put them on. Now I can see. That's always good. John is looking at me—sometimes he gets this look on his face and I can tell he wants to just rip my clothes off and ravage me. There's no time for that now, though. Unfortunately.

"I'm going to Yoga at 10—I'll take Hannah there too," I say. "Then back here, then Dr. Nichols at 2, then back here again. Allison will be here at 5."

Allison is the sister of another one of our actor friends, Jennifer. She's not a Theater person. She is, however, a grad student at Columbia and a babysitter whom we call on every so often.

"Busy lady," he says. "Just make sure you have a chance to take a little rest this afternoon."

"I will, I will." Sometimes it's hard for me to remember to do that—then I hit a wall in the evening after a full day of running around with a nearly full-grown baby sitting inside me. He leans over and gives me a kiss. I touch his face and hold him closer, prolonging the moment. I can smell his aftershave—this cream he uses has a scent that absolutely lights my lady parts on fire. I swear, sometimes when I smell it, it could get me pregnant if I wasn't pregnant already.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too," I say.

He kisses my belly.

"I love you also," he says. I touch his head one more time and he leaves.

I smile, bite my lip and shut my eyes. The scent of his aftershave lingers on my nose. I am absolutely going to fuck the daylights out of him when we get home tonight.

***

Being pregnant in the Summer isn't terribly fun—at least if you're not like me. I mean, yes, it's been really hot out lately and when I go outside, I feel huge and heavy and sweaty but I still love it. In some perverse way I think I really wanted to have a Summertime pregnancy just so I could have that feeling, and get looks from people that say, "Oh, you poor woman!" And they do! I check the temperature on my phone—it's 88˚ today—and start to wash up and get myself dressed for yoga. I pull on a sports bra-this isn't my preference but a normal bra doesn't work for yoga—and, well, I gotta wear something. I've always had boobs and pregnancy has turned them into massive, drippy melons. If I go without a bra, that is really not safe for anyone!

Panties are next and it wouldn't be so bad if I could see my feet to put them on. Following that bit of struggle, I go for shorts. Black gym shorts, black gym shorts, or...black gym shorts! Variety is key here. Just so long as they fit. Many of them do not right now. I manage to find one that does—and is clean. Little victories, y'know? Finally, of course, a top. My favorite stretchy workout top died an untimely death a couple of weeks ago—it seems I was too pregnant for it—so I got a new one. It's super cute—grey with a lavender trim—and it fits like a dream. Tight without being constricting, and thin without being too sheer. And breathable. Whatever that means.

Next, I go to dress Hannah. Diaper's clean—another reason why I love my husband—so I get her in a onesie. Like me, she's really fair-skinned so I get out a sun hat for her and sunscreen her up. Then, I sunscreen myself up. At least on my face, ears, neck and arms. Legs..ehh...let's just hope it's not too sunny. Strap her in the stroller and out we go!

I'm far from the only mom wheeling a stroller around the Upper West Side today, but it seems I am the only one who's both wheeling a stroller around AND heavily pregnant. I love that. To me, this is like the peak of all womanliness. I feel like when people look at me, they see a woman who's so beautiful and so loved that her husband couldn't keep his hands off her, so she's constantly pregnant.

Constantly pregnant...what a sexy thought...and I'm living it!

I'm kind of floating down Broadway, between the bright sun in my face and the tight clothes hugging my pregnant curves...I feel like an absolute goddess. I know I'm getting glances and I can't help but smile on the inside.

It's about a 15-minute walk to the yoga studio and fortunately it's one of these smallish places so the classes aren't that big—I come here even when I'm not pregnant and it's usually 6-8 women per class. The prenatal class today only has 5 women. The girl at the front desk, Kelly, also doubles as a nanny and so I leave Hannah with her. There's another little girl there, Charlotte, the daughter of a woman in my class. She's 5 and she makes sure to tell me every time I see her. She seems a little pouty today.

"What's wrong, Charlotte?" I ask her.

"I'm mad," she replies. "Mommy has a baby in her tummy and I want it to be a girl but instead it's a dumb boy."

I can't help but laugh a little bit.

"Well, you know, no matter if it's a boy or a girl, you'll still have to be a good big sister. You're going to be the role model and your little brother's always going to look up to you."

"Blah. I still want a sister."

"Oh, Charlotte," I say, crouching next to her, "Once you meet him I'm sure you'll change your mind."

"I hope the baby in your tummy is a girl instead of a boy."

"It is a girl, but you know what? Even if it was a boy I'd love him just as much. And you'll love your little brother too."

She's not buying it. Tough crowd. Kelly is holding back laughter as this conversation goes on.

After that enlightening discussion, it's off to class. Jeanne, the instructor, gives me a big hug.

"Oh, Rebecca," she says, "you look beautiful!"

"Aw, thanks, Jeanne! I've been feeling that way lately. Beautiful, but huge."

"How many more weeks?"

"Six—Actually, I have my 34-week appointment this afternoon!"

"So exciting!"

Of the women in the class today, I'm the furthest along. Charlotte's mother, Claudia, is 30 weeks, The other three women, Lauren, Brooke and...uh...I can't remember the other one's name...are 26, 26 and 24 weeks respectively. So I'm the belly champ of the group. And don't think I don't enjoy that fact.

The class itself kind of flies by—and I'm starting to realize the limitations on my body again. It was around this time when I was pregnant with Hannah that my body's general flexibility abandoned me. It wasn't so easy to contort myself like I usually do. That doesn't necessarily stop me from trying, it's just...more difficult. I can still hold a plank for a minute though. That's something. Even if Jeanne has to help me down at the end. Nonetheless, it makes me feel so powerful and energetic. Sexy, too.

After class, I get to talking with Lauren. She's about 10 years younger than I am, just married and having her first baby right out of the gate. She's a sweet girl, and often asks me pregnancy-related questions, usually involving things like feeling the baby move and "Should I worry if..." You know, those kind of questions. It's natural to worry as a first-time mom. I was kind of the same way. Today she seems kind of cagey.

"Rebecca, can I ask something personal?" she says.

"How personal?"

I have to ask, though to be honest I love answering pretty much any question about my pregnancy.

"Like, sexual personal."

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

"Well, it's Ryan. He seems to have become more distant lately. Not like he's never around, just...less touchy with me."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"Yeah...He says nothing's wrong but I feel like me being pregnant makes him uncomfortable. Like he's worried he's going to break me or something."

I chuckle.

"Have you told him that?"

"I don't really need to—he sort of demonstrates it. Like, we were having sex a few nights ago and the baby started moving inside me. And I love that feeling so much. But it freaked him out and took him right out of it—he lost focus and didn't want to do it anymore."

"But he likes to feel the baby moving when you aren't having sex, right?"

"He does...but I kinda need more than that. You know what I mean?"

I can only smile and nod.

"Is your husband like that?"

She asks me that and inside, I'm laughing my ass off.

"No, no...honestly I'm fortunate that intimacy hasn't been an issue during my pregnancies. I mean, I think you need to explain to him your needs—try to talk it out. And if straight up sex isn't working, there's other things you can try, oral, mutual masturbation or even solo masturbation...believe me, I get that pregnancy gets your hormones bubbling and boiling."

Lauren thanks me for my advice and gives me a hug. Then she rubs my belly, kind of out of nowhere. I rub hers back. We smile at each other. I hope her husband comes to his senses.

I do tend to stop short of admitting just how into pregnancy John and I are. I do think we're lucky to have found each other in that respect but perhaps moreso that we've been so compatible in general. A kink does not a relationship make, but it certainly has not hurt ours. When John and I go at it—and as you can imagine we do so quite frequently—and he feels our baby moving inside me, it draws us even closer together. The feeling we have for each other in those moments...it's absolutely electric. Like nothing I have ever felt.

***

I'm back home, briefly, before I go out for my Doctor's appointment. Between the yoga and the walking I've worked up quite an appetite—as have both my daughters—so I go to make some lunch. I let Hannah toddle around the kitchen a bit—everything's been sufficiently childproofed, don't worry—while I do my thing. I've been craving a lot of green stuff lately so I start mixing up a salad. I start with some romaine, add some fresh spinach, escarole, radish, tomatoes...the cucumber doesn't look so hot so I'll skip that...and celery. To top it off, the food that's probably been my #1 craving throughout both my pregnancies, pickled jalapenos. I've never been much for hot and spicy (unlike my husband) but for some reason, being pregnant draws it out of me. I have been known to stand in front of the refrigerator eating these out of the jar while John looks at me cockeyed. Salt, pepper, a little grated parmesan, olive oil and some balsamic vinegar round this out. Yes, I've made a salad large enough for several people. Yes, I am going to knock this down myself. I'm pregnant, leave me alone.

I get Hannah up in her high chair and get her lunch ready. Intermittently, I feed her and myself. I've gotten rather good at this over time. For a short spell, really before she got more teeth, I'd spoon-feed her baby food and, well, if I was extra hungry...you know. By any means necessary.

I realize it's about 1:30 and I need to get ready to go to the doctor. I clean up Hannah (she's still at that phase where more food ends up on her than in her) and give myself a sniff test. Some things need to be changed. The question is, do I want to bother? I pull off my top, which is kind of sweaty and pull on a plain white T-shirt. It's John's, so it should be kind of loose—er—um...not that loose. Maybe a little sheer. I don't care. If people on the street want to stare at my peeking belly and popped-out belly button, well, I wouldn't blame them. I'd stare at me too. Back in the stroller with Hannah and back out into the heat.

***

My appointment with Dr. Nichols is pretty uneventful. That's just fine with both of us. John manages to FaceTime in for part of the appointment although we find out nothing particularly enlightening. Everything is fine and dandy with both me and the baby. My vitals are solid. The baby's measuring a little big. 36 weeks and I'm 34 weeks today. This happened with Hannah, too. I'm short and I grow big babies. That's life!

No ultrasound today, but she did give my belly a thorough poking over, mostly to feel her position and make sure she's head down. She moves around a lot—that's been going on for weeks now—but she is indeed facing the right way. Her heartbeat is strong and rapid and I get all sorts of mushy whenever I hear it on the Doppler.

She asks me about a birth plan. I feel kind of nervous thinking about it, particularly without John there because he has a habit of picking up on things I might miss. I'm usually too busy thinking about being in pain and how this full-sized baby is going to make her way out of me. I did it naturally with Hannah and I'd like to do it again this time—something about getting numbed out with an epidural just doesn't sit well with me—and maybe if I were a little more hearty I'd think about a home birth. Dr. Nichols tells me that if I wanted to do that, I could—I've had a nice, easy pregnancy and there's minimal risk to it. I don't know. She says to talk to John and think about it.

I see her again in two weeks, and after that, it's once a week until I give birth.

***

I'd like to be able to take a nap when I get back from the Doctor but I'm probably not going to have time. Hannah starts to get fussy while we're walking home. I think she wants a nap, too. Luckily, she'll get one. We get back to the apartment and I lie her down in her crib. It's a little after 3 and I have to leave at 5:30.

I start to fill the tub—if I can't take a nap I'll at least have a little soak. When I have the time, I could sit in the bath for 30-45 minutes. Being in the water is so nice—Danielle used to tell me that—it really takes the weight off my feet and legs and back. I get in the tub, lie back and shut my eyes. I'm tired, but I'm also kind of horny. I usually get that way after my exams. Something about getting my belly felt up and prodded like that just does it for me. My sensation of touch is really, really strong during pregnancy, so I absolutely love being touched, or at least by friends and especially by John. Many people, like Lauren did earlier, see my belly and seem compelled to touch it. I don't blame them—my belly is almost comically huge right now—and I really make no effort to stop people from doing so.

Aaaaaand, before I know it, my fingers are rubbing my clit. I smile to myself and begin tugging gently at my left nipple. I already talked about my breasts growing. Dr. Nichols told me that they'd swell up a lot after I gave birth, but breastfeeding would help them go back to their normal size, which for me is still pretty large. She lied. They didn't go back. I've been slinging around these E-cup monsters for over a year now and on my short frame, well, they are kind of out of control. Just another fun little quirk of pregnancy, I guess!

Mmm...the water feels really nice on my skin. I think about going out later and dressing up in something tight. Definitely something tight. People are going to touch my belly all night. Fuck that's hot. They're all gonna want some belly...mmm...mmmm...MMMM! Ohhh yeah. So much touching and then John and I are gonna come home and he's gonna have his hands all over me. Belly, breasts, he's gonna squeeze my hips and pull my hair...OHHHH...Ohhh...Yeah.

It's a gentle orgasm this time. I shut my eyes and smile. When I open them up, I realize it's 4:40 and Allison is going to be here soon. And I'm not dressed. I bolt up and get out of the tub. I'm kind of pruney now. It's ok. Fortunately, when you get to be this big in your pregnancy only a few things fit so I don't have to go crazy. I have this dress—John calls it my "sexy preggo" dress—it's long and tight and cobalt blue, strapless and goes up to my neckline, leaving my shoulders and arms uncovered. It kind of pops against my pale skin and dark hair. It takes a little bit of an effort to squeeze into it though. I put on a bra—a nursing bra is the safe bet here, no need to go over the top and show off cleavage—and get on panties...and...HURK...HURRRRRK...HNNNNGH...there. It's on! I can exhale now.

Next, makeup. This is pretty quick. I have it down to a science. I'm about halfway through when the doorbell rings. It's Allison. We hug.

"My gosh, Rebecca, you look absolutely stunning!" she says. "And ready to pop, too!"

I giggle.

"Not popping just yet...I still have six weeks to go but thank you for saying that! It's not always easy glamming up with this belly."

I go back and continue to get ready. Allison goes in Hannah's room to check on her. I finish up and meet her in there.

"She went down for a nap around 3:30 I'd say, so it's safe to get her up," I say.

"And you've left food for her in the refrigerator?" She asks.

"Yup, you know the drill!"

"I'm on it!" she says with a smile.

We talk for a few minutes. I ask her about how her classes are going—she's in the middle of getting her PhD in Psychology so she came loaded down with books—she asks me how I'm doing, I show her where I've left a few things for her, and then I'm off to the Theater.