“I had put on nearly ten kilos and it took quite some time getting up from the floor at night. The solid fact of my bulk had convinced me the baby was not just an idea that, like a dream, or Guido, could vanish when I woke up one morning. Whenever I arrived somewhere and settled myself, even if the position was uncomfortable or unsuitable, I was reluctant to move. Now the weight of me was alive. I enjoyed being 'with child'. That cosy expression was my favourite, the preposition emphasising so n...eatly the companionable aspect of my state. Being with child meant that I was no longer alone, even when I was asleep. At night, if Guido had gone to his room early, I would take off all my clothes and look at my body. My belly was extraordinary, a great shiny beach ball, the skin stretched so tight it glowed silver under the lamplight. I would stand sideways and push my stomach out, watching the undaunted curves of breast, belly, bottom, thigh. Someone should paint me, I thought, worship the magic of this female form.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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