Can a Pregnant Woman be Sexy?

I think it's great when a pregnant woman says that she feels "sexy." I do not.

Pretty is in the face; sexy is in the body. I feel "post-sexy." This is the body of one who has succeeded with the primary purpose of sex. It's biological. Here is the body of a woman who has been sexed, and, thus, the seed has been planted. There is no need for seed. Full tank. The nozzle seeks another tank to fill. And so, in many ways, I go through the world now round and undesirable, and yet perfectly content as such.

Am I desirable to my husband? Of course. This is his fine accomplishment. The way my body is changing is a direct result of his handiwork. Does he look forward to the return of a defined waistline? Of course.

Some say that pregnant women are beautiful. Beauty is something exotic. Pregnancy is the antithesis of exotic.

Chocolate is sexy. A really good creme brulee is beautiful. Apple pie is pregnant.

A pregnant woman is cute. Like a baby elephant. Like a harp seal. People come up to me and want to pet me.

Sometimes I feel as though I am in a clown suit. The exaggerated belly. The overly abundant boobs. A pregnant woman's feet even get bigger. I'm already a size-10 shoe. Much bigger than that, and I might as well get the foam nose to go with my floppy shoes. We even get to walk funny.

Here's an image for you: Imagine an 8-month pregnant woman dancing to hip-hop in her slippers and maternity pants. The reflection in the sliding glass doors is hilarious, and so she dances as sexy and nasty as she can. She's in the middle of the woods. No one can see, and no one is home. Comedy at its finest.