On Friday morning my school gathers for a flag ceremony and most of the parents stay after drop off to participate. As my stomach has grown, it’s not unusual to have parents come up to me and want to chat about my pregnancy.
As many of you mums-to-be already know, stomach touching goes with the conversation. Now, I know this type of invasion freaks out a lot of first time mums; I am not one of those mums. I lost my need for personal space about nine years ago. It was during my first year of teaching, I was consoling a crying child and he tried to stick his hand in my shirt. Needless to say, having my stomach rubbed by a stranger is nothing compared to that.
So as I was standing with my class waiting for the other kids to file into the courtyard, I began talking to a parent of one of my former students. As we are talking, she is gushing over my “so cute belly” and starts to touch it. I shrug it off—like I said before, this really doesn’t bother me. But this was one of those weeks where I felt like my stomach was expanding like a balloon and my skin was particularly tight. I didn’t know how good would feel to have her—anyone!—rub my belly until I let out an involuntary moan. Not a quiet I-can-cough-over-it moan but a really loud, close-my-eyes, toss-my-head-back, Jesus -that-feels-awesome moan. Crap!
My eyes fly open. I was horrified. I glanced at her hands as she quickly retreated. I can almost hear her thoughts as she mumbles excuses that she has to go. Oh God, did that really just happen? Holy crap, did I really just bellow out a moan like that in front of all these people? I smiled at her sheepishly and then I thought smugly, “Bet she’ll never rub a pregnant lady’s belly without asking.”