Guest Blog on the Magic (and farts) of Pregnancy

My dear Writing Coach Colleague, Liz, hosted a writing contest on “experiencing something magic.” I wrote about the magic (and smelliness) of…well, you can read it.  Originally published at:

I once experienced something that felt like magic.

I remember eating a chunk of Brie cheese before looking. If there was a “+,” I knew I couldn’t eat Brie again for 9 whole months, as the bacteria in soft cheese is not good for growing fetuses. I normally find this cheese delicious: soft and melty on the inside, warm, extra creamy. But on this day, I was waiting for the results. I ate the cheese quickly and with anticipation. I don’t remember the experience of the cheese because, as I watched, the tiny window on the pregnancy test stick test was gradually turning into a plus! HOLY SHIT! My body was the same, and yet felt like magic.

All of a sudden, my body was a magical, tender, vulnerable, sacred, miracle baby-making vessel! There was a little tiny baby in there! OK, miniscule cluster of cells smaller than a pomegranate seed or blueberry, but still! My blueberry! A raspberry cluster of growing human being! A little fetal butterfly! Holy magical miracle! Especially since I had struggled with an eating disorder that affected my fertility, was “AMA” (Advanced Maternal Age), and my husband was waaaaaaaay beyond the cutoff for AMA  🙂 .

The smells came later. This magical experience did not smell pleasant. In case no-one has told you, pregnancy makes you fart.  It also made my nose into a truffle pig, rodent-of-unusual size-like super sensitive organ. I could smell the neighbors cooking. I could smell unscented deodorant; I could smell fruit ripening in a field 60 miles away. When walking through the airport shopping section where perfume was sold, I promptly threw up. My sensitized pregnancy nose was assaulted and my little fetal butterfly was having none of it. He said, “Mommy, we have passed the put-on-scent-to-attract-a-mate phase. I am here now and I DO NOT LIKE perfume!” Most scents were unpleasant and made me nauseous. A few were nice. Subtle smells like hummus and olive oil; and intense smells like cheesy pasta and hamburgers. YUM. Fetal butterfly said two thumbs up to those.


The quality of light in this experience? Well, people said I was “glowing” which was either the appropriate celebratory response, a polite way of avoiding saying “Wow, you’ve gotten large,” or an actual observation. I never felt “light” or “glowing” during those nine months. I felt startled that I could barely fit out of my car door, hippo-like, awkward, scared, excited, spacey, tired, and vulnerable. I also felt a quality of sacred-ness. The kicking around inside my belly was the most miraculous. As he grew, my baby was not a subtle, fluid mover. He was a kicking, punching, acrobat, which, considering his Mama is unable to do even a cartwheel was possibly the most miraculous of all.

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