Luna Gets Bigger, Part III
The end of the first trimester brings even more changes. One day, you were waddling through the door to your bedroom. Your hips have been spreading wider and wider over the course of this pregnancy, both because that's just what happens when you're pregnant due to the bones in your pelvis spreading in preparation to give birth and all the fat you've put on due to the fact that you simply cannot stop stuffing your face, also because you're pregnant. They've come close to brushing the door frame before, but now they are. They definitely are. You close your eyes, with a grin on your face, both fists in the air, squealing like a schoolgirl at the thought that your husband got you so pregnant and you fattened yourself up so much that your hips now brush door frames. You can't wait until you actually get stuck or even crush them! And of course, that ballooning belly of yours has been doing some serious growing. Remember that day when you were in the fifth month of your last pregnancy and you couldn't reach the front of your belly anymore? That happened on the same day! Only three months in and you can't even reach all the way around yourself anymore! Your hands cannot meet! You're such a bloated, fattened baby factory that you cannot even reach your own belly button! Again! You thought that the day your hips started brushing door frames was already one of the single best days of your entire life, but now there's just no comparison. Both incredible feats of fecundity and gluttony have been accomplished in just one single day! A girl who cannot even walk (or waddle) through a door without her hips brushing the sides and has a belly that has outgrown her arms' reach. Your mind is mush. Complete mush. You have no idea what is going on around you, the only thought on your mind being how much bigger you're going to get, and how you have absolutely no control over that process, your husband putting you in this most wonderful, delicious prison of your own body. Those thoughts simmer in your mind until your husband gets home from work, and you simply cannot stop yourself from pouncing on him to thank him for what he's turned you into.
Brushing door frames with your hips is one thing, getting stuck in door frames is another. Merely a month after that day your mind spiraled out of control in delirious euphoria, your hips actually do get stuck in-between your bedroom door. You really can't leave your room anymore. Thankfully, the floorboards in your room are extra creaky, something you desperately would have missed if you were stuck in there, which you now are as a result of your gravidity and rapaciousness. Your limited range of motion has predictable results. Your activity is reduced, your babies get bigger, your body gets fatter. It's a delicious cycle.
Even that limited range of motion is taken from you by month five, an entire month earlier than it was previously. You're bed-bound. You're stuck. Pinned underneath the weight of ten heaving fetuses that not even your fat, meaty legs can support anymore, both your babies and your body growing even fatter now that you cannot even move. There is nothing more in life that you could have possibly wanted, and boy did you get it. Your hands explore what you can of your ever-growing, immobile body. You have no one else than your doting husband to thank for all of this. He keeps both the appetite of your greedy decuplets fed and your appetite for him more than satisfied. He rocks your world like nothing else. None of your neighbors are getting any decent sleep.
(continued in Part IV)
This is what I’m imagining with this😳😳😳
