30 Weeks

Here we go, week thirty, which means ten more weeks until we get to meet our little man. Thirty weeks also means people are really starting to notice and can hardly help from commenting, especially here on this island where having babies is a big, special ting. 

Most of the comments range from, "Wow, you aren't very big for almost eight months" to, "Holy shit, are you having twins? How do you breath? Are you okay?" And only as Cruzan woman can, the most common comment, "You're fat!", my favorite, by the way, especially when it  comes from the mouth of a not so thin woman. I have learned to get over the fat comments though and realize this is not the mainland of the image obsessed, but the land of goodness and johnny cakes.

My favorite part of pregnancy is the connection people feel with you, men and woman alike. I have never experienced such kindness as when I am pregnant. All want to guess the sex by my appearance and the roundness of my belly or the way I am carrying. Most guess boy which is cool because with the girls, everyone without a doubt knew at first glance that I was carrying a girl. Some want to rub the belly which I welcome. Why? For one it feels good (I am weird, yes) and secondly, I think the baby deserves all the love he can get. Transfer all the good energy you can to the little guy. We thank you.

Mothers and grandmothers love to talk about their experiences, which I could chat about forever. In St. Croix, many of the older woman can still boast that they gave birth to a brood of six or ten and I bow to their expertise. The group of broad chested cops I walked by yesterday all wanted guess how many months I was and make jokes and laugh together. Seriously, you all care? How awesome. 

The most precious baby spectator I have discovered though is Nyah, who has taken an almost protective roll to her, "Baby brudr". She often discusses his birthday, "Is it today?" and has become an expert in feeling his movements. If she doesn't feel him move after about five-seconds of resting her short fingers on him, she concludes, "He is sleeping, shhh". The best feeling though, hands down, is when she engulfs herself around the bump that is him and rests her head in the most loving hug. 

Someone once told me that babies bring the love. It's so true, there is nothing more beautiful or universal.