Tuesday
June 3, 2008
I dreamt women were aggressively pitching their sexual interest at Rob while he made his inquiries for his new job at Mosquito Control. I woke feeling anxious, out of sorts, maybe even a bit worried. May seem silly, since Rob is probably the most integrity-filled man I know. Even if he were attracted to someone who was interested in him, I suspect it highly unlikely that he would ever even think of doing anything about it. I know my childhood and some of my own adult relationships are filled with examples of infidelity (their end, not mine), so perhaps this is residual, brought on by being pregnant, hormonal, sensitive, and a little concerned that maybe my morphing body is not as beautiful as I would prefer to think it, but lumpy and strange, bloated. Rob says he loves my belly, but I wonder if it isn’t strange for him to look over at me, with the blue veins running across my ballooning breasts, my swollen belly hard and moving on its own, my rear end widening to support it all. It has to be a little unnerving for him.
I don’t want to write much about Rob or my relationship with him out of respect for his privacy. It’s one thing to journal, another to write and then post it on the web. But it is a curious subject when it comes to pregnancy, the idea of sexuality, of attraction. We are, after all, animals, with (hopefully) a higher sense of consciousness. We (especially men) are hard-wired to want to mate, pro-create, and most animals are not monogamous. I wonder if there is some small part of a man’s mind when his partner is pregnant that gets turned off, if he starts wondering what it would be like to be with other women, if he feels a sense of lackluster because he is no longer challenged, no longer in pursuit.
Or maybe he feels pride, a sense of really belonging. I don’t know- I’m not a man and I’m with one that, like most men, keeps me guessing at what goes on in his head. And really, it’s not his job to have to reassure me. I’m sure one of the challenges of being with a woman, a pregnant one, no less, is the necessity of letting them know how you feel about them. Women, by nature, are quite good at this, we are the reigning champions of nurturing.
Which brings me back to the whole concept of taking care of yourself. If you are properly taking care of yourself, you don’t need anyone to tell you you are ok. You tune into that place within and simply know you are. Do not let your mind get carried away, be careful what you tune into. The dream might have seemed real, but it was not. Rub your belly and put on some pink lipstick. And remember that you are as kissable as the day you two first met.
