You Sexy Thing
I was getting ready for bed last night and had to remove my new belly support belt. This thing is a big piece of industrial strength white elastic with velcro closures. I was wearing it over my white cotton maternity granny panties. As I released my bulging stomach from the death grip of the belt and indulged in some belly scratching I noticed that J was watching me with a smirk on his face. 'Stop, you're driving me wild', he said while barely containing his laughter.
I had to laugh too. My appearance is pretty comical these days. I reminded J that when we met, lo those many years ago, I had such exotic items in my wardrobe as garter belts and seamed stockings. Now, we're down to granny panties and a truss. Sexy.
These underpants are remarkable. They end somewhere in the vicinity of my armpits and use enough fabric to make a sheet for a twin bed. If I was in a plane that was going down I could tie a knot in them and use them for a parachute. If I was stranded in the desert they would make a comfortably sized tent or, if I happened to be wearing my super-supportive spandex maternity undies, they could hold enough water to keep me hydrated for weeks. In fact, they should be standard military issue. Can you just see a big burly US Marine in a pair of maternity underpants.
So, after arranging the dozen or so pillows it takes to get comfortable these days and finally getting into bed at around 6.30pm, ie as soon as J walked in the door, I dozed off around 6.32. Woke up at 9.00 starving and in desperate need of peanut butter. J very kindly brought me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was actually exceedingly kind of him as he had to get dressed and do a father-to-be dash to the grocery store in order to buy the peanut butter in the first place.
So I sat in bed and ate my sandwich, drank a pint of milk and started timing my contractions. I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions for weeks but these were painful and regular enough to get my attention. Every fifteen minutes. Hmmmm. I read my book and timed the contractions for a couple of hours until J came to bed. By then I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open and decided that if the contractions really meant business they would wake me up. Thankfully, they didn't.
I had to laugh too. My appearance is pretty comical these days. I reminded J that when we met, lo those many years ago, I had such exotic items in my wardrobe as garter belts and seamed stockings. Now, we're down to granny panties and a truss. Sexy.
These underpants are remarkable. They end somewhere in the vicinity of my armpits and use enough fabric to make a sheet for a twin bed. If I was in a plane that was going down I could tie a knot in them and use them for a parachute. If I was stranded in the desert they would make a comfortably sized tent or, if I happened to be wearing my super-supportive spandex maternity undies, they could hold enough water to keep me hydrated for weeks. In fact, they should be standard military issue. Can you just see a big burly US Marine in a pair of maternity underpants.
So, after arranging the dozen or so pillows it takes to get comfortable these days and finally getting into bed at around 6.30pm, ie as soon as J walked in the door, I dozed off around 6.32. Woke up at 9.00 starving and in desperate need of peanut butter. J very kindly brought me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was actually exceedingly kind of him as he had to get dressed and do a father-to-be dash to the grocery store in order to buy the peanut butter in the first place.
So I sat in bed and ate my sandwich, drank a pint of milk and started timing my contractions. I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions for weeks but these were painful and regular enough to get my attention. Every fifteen minutes. Hmmmm. I read my book and timed the contractions for a couple of hours until J came to bed. By then I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open and decided that if the contractions really meant business they would wake me up. Thankfully, they didn't.
posted by K @ 9:53 am
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