Preparing for motherhood

“A walking belly with match sticks for arms and legs.” That’s how my son’s pregnant wife describes herself. She adds, “I take up a lot of space and my muscles don’t coordinate.” That may explain the current rash of accident.
During the recent cold weather, their house was frigid. After a bath, Alexis stood next to the wall space heater, wearing only what God gave her, drying her back side. As she says, “I was toweling my legs. I leaned over and my bare bottom touched the metal grates barely long enough to grill me. Fortunately, it happened right after my prenatal visit. I would be terribly embarrassed to have to explain those marks to a complete stranger.”
My son offered to carry her to the sofa. As he lifted her, he gasped, “Wow! You are heavier than the last time I carried you.” Pregnancy does that to women.
A few days later, she was sipping coffee at an outside table in the French Quarter of New Orleans on an overcast day. “I felt a raindrop on my head. Instinctively, I reached up to touch the raindrop. It was not a raindrop. It was a green gift from a bird. I ran inside the coffee shop, washed my hair with lots of soap and hot water and dried it with paper towels. With my purple maternity dress, I looked like a drowned rat in a choir robe as we walked through the French Quarter.
Another day she e-mailed me, “I was chopping lemon grass for dinner and nearly sliced through the tip of my index finger. I called hubby. He asked, “why are you calling me and not going to the hospital?” I whined until I got his sympathy, then went to the health clinic. They sent me to the hospital for stitches. At the emergency room, I joined a roomful of people w ho had been waiting since mid-morning to see a doctor.”
The triage nurse aid only a tetanus shot was needed. After waiting for hours, Alexis realized tetanus shots were not a high priority. She left ad got one at the clinic the next day. She was served breakfast in bed the next morning. Even the baby sympathized “While I was in pain,” she wrote, “the baby didn’t move at all.”
The baby’s growing presence has increased Alexis’ appreciation for the size of handicapped bathrooms.
“After I got pregnant, an ordinary booth was not enough room for me and my belly to maneuver.”
She was in a handicapped stall recently, trying to adjust her clothes. As she wrote, “I emphasize ‘try’ because my enlarged tummy makes it difficult to touch my knees, much less reach for anything below that. As I reached down, I lost my balance, fell forward and knocked my head against the handrail which supported the rest of my body as I regained control. I composed myself, finished dressing, gathered up my stuff and headed out. I guess this is God’s way of preparing me to relate to the cute and defenseless little being that will be here two months from now.”
She may be right, but it sounds like she has had enough preparation for two expectant mothers.