By Brie Gowen
I woke up in bed early this morning. It was still dark outside, and the house was completely quiet. As I lay there staring at the ceiling, the insomnia of my last month of pregnancy causing my tired brain to spin, I thought about my husband who lay asleep in the other room. I thought about the text I had received from him prior to going to bed that night before. Despite us only being separated by a single wall or two, he had sent me a message on my phone.
Sometimes, I just cannot believe my husband!
Here I am 52 weeks pregnant, or at least what feels that way, and he hasn’t changed a bit. I am in a state of mind where I feel like an absolute whale. I feel puffy, tired, and like my nose is spreading out at an insane rate across my face. I feel itchy, achy, and sometimes even ugly. I feel swollen, stretched, and unattractive. That’s just the way it is.
Yet somehow in the middle of my feelings of inadequacy and loss of self esteem, I glance up to see my husband staring at me, and I just cannot believe him. He’s smiling.
He’s smiling at me. He finds me beautiful still. Despite the weight gain and swollen ankles, he finds me adorable and desirable. I just cannot believe him.
When I read the text message he had sent earlier in the night, my heart had soared. I felt it skip a beat just like it had done when we were nineteen, and he whispered the words into my ear.
I want you to know I love you more than anything in this world, the message had read.
And though we had just seen each other minutes before, and he was indeed just another room away, he had felt compelled to tell me that I was loved, that I was cherished, that I was adored.