Beautiful pregnant women

Beautiful pregnant women

The first time I saw a pregnant woman, I worried instantly and dramatically as to what was wrong with her. A big swollen stomach burst forth from her body and I just hadn’t seen anything like that before. I was with Dad and quickly alerted him, “Dad, Dad, look, look, look there.” I indicated to the lady labouring down Cranbourne’s main street, heading into Skewe’s supermarket, “What’s wrong with that lady?”

Dad sensed my urgency and worry so he quickly looked. A big, happy smile grew slowly across his face, like a shadow grows with the early morning sunrise, “There’s nothing wrong with her mate,” he laughed. “She’s pregnant, she’s having a baby”

“What the…?” I thought, confused and confronted. I was really young and hadn’t wondered too much to that point in my life as to where I, or my mates, had come from; I’d been too busy with my dogs, playing footy. I was deeply disturbed, not in any disgusted or bad way, but the sort of disturbance that hits you when you just can’t understand something, can’t grip hold of it in your mind.

Dad could see I was confused and worried. We were alone in the car, paused in traffic on the South Gippsland Highway. Quietly, he leant over and whispered, “You know mate, there’s nothing more beautiful in the world than a pregnant woman.”

When I walk

When I walk