I have never had to listen to my body as much as I have these last 15+ weeks. Lately, my body generally tells me about five different things:
1. Drink a lot of water. And then go pee. And then repeat.
2. Eat everything in sight. Except things that could possibly be icky in sight/smell/taste/texture. And if it is in fact icky, then be prepared for a gag-a-thon.
3. Sit down. Don’t move for a very long time. Except if it’s to go to bed. Or pee.
4. Only pay attention to me. I don’t care that you have a full-time job.
5. I do not want to be touched, unless it’s to massage my aching back or scratch my itchy shins.
Well, body, I hear ya loud and clear. 10-4.
The neat thing about listening to my body is that I’m growing fond of its needs. Even on my worst gag-a-thon, bone-deep exhaustion, migraine-yielding days, I know it’s serving a purpose. And that purpose is deep inside my belly.
I’m so in touch with my body and the amazing life force growing inside me, that it is literally ALL I can think about sometimes. And I’m okay with that.
Every part of my body has been renewed with meaning, because I no longer feel empty. I am full. In every sense of the word.
Belly. Mind. Heart. I am full.