Baby Belly

My very pregnant friend recently shared proofs from an "expecting" photo shoot. She wanted my opinion on which ones to print. I scrolled through page after page of a beautiful, happy, fecund woman in her biological prime. "Wow." I thought. "Look at That Belly." Click, click, click. Picture after picture scrolling by, I stopped seeing her smiling happy face and could only see THAT BELLY. Something came over me and I suddenly FREAKED OUT! Utterly and completely. I was a bit shocked and ashamed by my reaction to seeing her belly. To me, it seemed like my petite friend, usually a scant 90 lbs sopping wet, had been consumed, yes! consumed, by this enormous protrusion. I began to hallucinate that my dear friend had been invaded by some kind of alien life form. Sure, I see *clothed* pregnant women of all sizes all the time, but here was my friend, no bigger than a mite in the full flesh. Very full flesh. Given that I hadn't seen my friend since the early days when her belly looked like she'd just eaten too many beans, I was now overcome by her fulsomeness (is that a word?). Gassy belly bloat I can handle. This? Nnn-nnn! I realised it was about me and not her. I was freaking out about the fact that I have been freaking out about whether I should get on the mommy-train. At my age, things, I fear, are not as elastic. What if there is not snapback for me?So for someone on the fertility fence, the pictures were a bucket of cold water--make that two buckets! Set my feet right back down on to the solid ground of barreness!