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Michelleisright.Duringthe first three and a half months of my pregnancy I was still as flat as a pancake. But by the time I hit month four, I was barely starting to enjoy the tiny bump before it seemed I was growing by the second. All the oversized T-shirts I had thought would be a perfect fit for a few months were soon clinging in a few weeks. And I’m beginning to feel my skin stretching. Michelle has made it her duty to lavish me with gifts from her clients. It feels as though I have fairy godparents as every week she comes with some trinket or other from them. My flat is running out of space and I shudder to think what it’ll really look like when I’m close to delivering. I still have to get a crib and a stroller. Plus, all the furniture a baby needs. I don’t want to say anything to Michelle, but I’m seriously considering taking her offer to move back in with her and share her rent. It would make sense to turn her storage room into a nursery as she suggested. She got me a job transcribing for one of her clients and the money is pretty decent, better than I expected, actually. I have been squirreling away as much as I can and being pretty frugal. I’m simply living one day at a time.
The weather begins to warm up and before I know it, we were in April and nearing the middle of my second trimester. It is hard to believe that by sometime in the summer I’ll have a baby in my arms. I’ll be a whole mother!
I’m going through my closet and doing another period of culling when Michelle calls.
“I want to take you shopping.”
“Shopping! For the baby or me?”
“Both. Your wardrobe needs some stuff and I was thinking we could look at a gift registry for the baby.”
“A gift registry? I don’t know anyone, Michelle. Who’s going to buy me anything from a baby registry?”
“That’s for me to know and for you to find out. My clients love you sight unseen. I’m sure anything you choose for your registry will be bought.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, it still can’t hurt to look.”
“I guess not.”
“How does Saturday sound? We could have brunch first, then go shopping.”
“Saturday sounds good.”
“Great! It’s a date.”
Saturday morning finds Michelle and me at one of our favorite coffee shops. She reaches across and rubs my stomach. I’m wearing an oversized flannel shirt paired with leggings. I have my hair up in a bun and have even put on some light make-up and a pair of cute earrings. It feels like ages since I have been anywhere but home.
“You’re getting so big!”
“I feel like I’m a balloon getting ready to be popped.”
“You’re nowhere near being ready to be popped, hon.”
“She who feels it knows it.”
We spend almost an hour enjoying our meal before Michelle urges us on to the second part of our day’s activities. I pull back a bit as she steers us toward one of the most expensive maternity stores in the mall.
“Michelle, are you sure about this store?”
“Very sure.”
“But, I can’t afford—”
“I didn’t ask you that.”
“But Michelle—”
“Shush. Come along now. Even if we don’t buy anything, at least you’ll get some ideas of some of the things you want that we can maybe find elsewhere.”
“Okay.”
We walk in and I’m immediately in awe of all the baby things. I feel as though I’m sucked into a sea of clothes, shoes, cribs, strollers, mobiles, and anything else I can think of for my precious child.
“The registry’s over here, Sidney. Look at this stuff!”
I wander over to the display which has an assortment of items other mothers have chosen for their registry.
