As many of you moms-to-be already know, stomach touching goes with the conversation. Now, I know this type of invasion freaks out a lot of first time moms; I am not one of those moms. 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.”
