Marta’s developed a habit of saying: I have this weird feeling….”
“Like what?” I ask. “Pain? Nausea?”
“No,” she responds, in this new sort of mysterious way she has about her. “Just strange.”
“But”–I am persistent as always– “Is it like a sharp pain? Or like a fluttering, or a vibrating, or a twisting, or….”
“It’s just weird,” she say, almost annoyingly calm.
And then I give up.
It’s really strange not to almost intuitively understand what is happening in the body of my partner. We’re both women after all. And though each women is different, you can usually empathize. Or at least imagine.
But recently it’s been like Marta is an alien species, sleeping in my bed. She has indescribable feelings. She wakes to go pee seven times in the night. Her feet swell to impressive proportions when we fly. She breaks down in tears in Dillards. This, the woman who normally never cries.
There are times when I seriously feel like one of those dudes in a buddy movie, talking to his dude friend and being like, “Dude! Does your girlfriend get all, like, weird n’ stuff around that time of the month?”
It’s bewildering, though I’ve come to learn that if I am patient Marta will eventually find the words to explain. Like she did the other day, when she mentioned, in an almost off-handed way the “baby moving.”
“What!” I exclaimed.
“Yeah,” she said. “I think that’s what those weird feelings are. Cause they’re always the same.”
And then I feel like some small mystery has been solved. Like I am Jessica Fletcher now.
In a sequel: Pregnancy, She Wrote.