If only I could strut properly.

Maybe it hasn't been difficult enough. Maybe it's been too easy for me. Maybe I don't know enough.

Maybe I'm just an idiot, one of those idiots who causes eye-rolls in everyone she meets. Probably a few would *begin* to think that after I make this statement:

Pregnancy is sexy.

I don't necessarily mean that in a sexual manner. Confused yet? I know I am. What I mean is that (for me, at least) despite the swollen belly... the constant trips to the bathroom... the inability to find non-maternity clothes that fit, keep the lady bits trimmed, or see my toes... and the way even my balance and the way I walk has changed... despite all of these things I feel more alive, more primal, more in tune with my body than I have ever felt before. I think that is "sexy." You can change it to "empowering" if it makes you feel better. One of the sexiest traits is confidence, which in my opinion is based in self-awareness. You have to know yourself to believe in yourself, amiright? And I've never known or believed in myself better than I do right now, at 28 weeks pregnant with sleep deprivation, a hectic schedule, and a very active little girl. One whose constant kicks, turns, bumps, flutters, bladder-stomps and occasional (but hilarious!) hiccups remind me daily of what this body of mine is capable of.

I can bring a life into this world.

Pregnancy is a beautiful, natural, and instinctive creature. It does what it has to do to get what it needs, what it desires, whatever it takes to follow through with this amazing and terrifying process. Much like the fetus we carry and the child we deliver, it just knows what it requires. We go back to basics.

Our emotions and senses are heightened. We're hungry again. We become fierce guardians of ourselves and what's ours. We strive for closeness to those we care about, and learn to distance ourselves from those who bring us harm. Sometimes this is contradictory, and it's usually not easy. We glow. We plan. We nest. We love. We rage. We weep. We grow.

I'm not a total idiot. I know this is not even close to every woman's experience, that it is a tremendously different experience for each person, for each situation. But this is mine. I battle depression, my husband has missed most of this pregnancy while he has been in training, I hate my job, I'm stressing over insurance, I'm stressing over moving, I'm not sleeping well, I *waddle* everywhere, and I can't say enough how much I miss my husband (obviously enough for him to warrant two mentions in the same paragraph)... Yet I feel so damn powerful because I know that no matter what, I can get through this. I'm terrified, but I still believe in myself and my body. And that confidence is sexy.

(Of course, ask me in 10 more weeks if I still feel so positive carrying a limb-flailing watermelon.)