Little Perks
I really love being pregnant. I can say that since I had no morning sickness and remain symptom-free other than occasional annoying, but not debilitating, back pain and a tendency to become regularly overheated even if a room is air-conditioned. But I love watching my changing size, and I especially love feeling all the baby’s movements. Yesterday I read a little of my book, Cathedral of the Sea, out loud to her—it takes place in Barcelona in the 1300s. Later, Andrew read her a little of Colm Toibin’s Homage to Barcelona. Both times, she expressed her pleasure with a dance-like series of movements that felt more like moonwalks than kicks. That’s our girl.
I also love being pregnant for all the little perks. I’m now 100% unambiguously pregnant—to the point where people can say “Oh, a baby!” or “When are you due?” without fear of a making a terrible faux pas. On the plane back from Pennsylvania, we were delayed while sitting on the plane, and a flight attendant, unasked, brought me a huge bottle of water “for the two of you.” Last night, Andrew and I went to dinner at a great Greek restaurant we love called the Greek Village Inn, where we ordered our normal fare of skoldalia (garlic dip), avoglemeno soup (chicken, rice, lemon), and gyros sandwiches. After the dip, though, came two spanokopita with spinach and feta, then two similar triangles filled with feta and cream cheese. The owner was sending everything over, for the baby. “Pregnant women always get a little extra,” he said. “You need to eat.” The waitresses all cooed and asked when the baby was due. We ordered baklava for dessert—but what arrived was baklava as well as a huge other dessert, a phyllo dough, custard, and whipped cream extravaganza that he said was the house favorite. When he went to wrap up our remaining baklava, he brought back a container with about four new pieces. We were charmed. We were also stuffed to the gills, barely able to make the drive home.
It’s been in the 100s all week—yesterday it was 105—which definitely isn’t fun. But I’ve just been lying low in the AC, drinking buckets of water, working, reading, enjoying pregnancy’s little perks.
I also love being pregnant for all the little perks. I’m now 100% unambiguously pregnant—to the point where people can say “Oh, a baby!” or “When are you due?” without fear of a making a terrible faux pas. On the plane back from Pennsylvania, we were delayed while sitting on the plane, and a flight attendant, unasked, brought me a huge bottle of water “for the two of you.” Last night, Andrew and I went to dinner at a great Greek restaurant we love called the Greek Village Inn, where we ordered our normal fare of skoldalia (garlic dip), avoglemeno soup (chicken, rice, lemon), and gyros sandwiches. After the dip, though, came two spanokopita with spinach and feta, then two similar triangles filled with feta and cream cheese. The owner was sending everything over, for the baby. “Pregnant women always get a little extra,” he said. “You need to eat.” The waitresses all cooed and asked when the baby was due. We ordered baklava for dessert—but what arrived was baklava as well as a huge other dessert, a phyllo dough, custard, and whipped cream extravaganza that he said was the house favorite. When he went to wrap up our remaining baklava, he brought back a container with about four new pieces. We were charmed. We were also stuffed to the gills, barely able to make the drive home.
It’s been in the 100s all week—yesterday it was 105—which definitely isn’t fun. But I’ve just been lying low in the AC, drinking buckets of water, working, reading, enjoying pregnancy’s little perks.
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