I went to a baseball game a few weeks ago (humouring my husband, of course) and as it was the last mass of humanity thing I have been to in a while (and will be in a while (I do hate masses of people), I saw the bleachers, the seats and just the array of humans sitting there, thoughts clouded my mind, and belly.
I am quite pregnant. By quite it means it has been a long time since I last saw the lower part of my body, finding a comfortable sleeping position is like finding gold in a river, or a piece of cake after a toddler birthday party; and having to pee in the middle of the night takes the same effort as running a marathon because it is just so hard to get out of bed. So yes, quite in the preggers.
Anyhow, I am sitting there seeing how the team my husband has been cheering since childhood is just handing the game to the opposing team, and I can’t help but think. Man, all of these humans once upon a time lived in someone’s belly! All of them, all of us at one point in our existence made a woman’s body expand, and be in pain and bloated, and be uncomfortable and stretch marks and sciatica and gas and all those things #nobodytellsyou…
You see a painting, or a book, a desk, any item and you wonder about its origin. You can´t wonder too much when you see humans. We were all made the same way (some in test tubes, blessed IVF for all those out there!), but we all grew inside somebody’s womb. There is no Brave New World glass wombs or anything of the sort (yet!)
I just find that amazing. It is quite obvious, but now, as I am producing my own little human inside me I am awed by the fact that we all came to be the same way, and that somehow, somewhere a woman let this happen to her body. For you, and you, and you. And me.
(Blessed be the amnesia that women claim they have after they had the baby. Forgetfulness produces siblings)