small shifts

It’s like someone took my upbeat, energetic wife and replaced her with a defective clone, the same in most ways but not the details. Her breasts have changed in mass and shape, growing a little bit bigger, just enough to feel different but not so much that she has to get new clothes. The nipples have spread out and are darker and often hard. Her belly’s spread wider and softened. She’s calmer than usual, but also weaker, easy to tire. She needs lots of touching and hugs, but isn’t into sex. She burps all the time, and I swear her breath smells different. She’s different all over in a lot of tiny ways. There’s a sort of helpless feeling that comes along with it, because she seems at the whims of the pregnancy that still seems like almost an abstraction, because we can’t quite feel it though we see it’s effects and know it’s in there. Sometimes it fascinates me, sometimes it scares me, and sometimes there’s a little disgust, and even a hint of resentment. What a male reaction. Are we all so hardwired?

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