Perseus in 3-D

"How far along are you?" I grabbed the counter, out of breath and clutching my belly. "Just give me a second," I tried to recover. "January." Her look of concern eased into a smile. "Oh, I was born in January too!" By then I'd finally caught my breath and the mild cramping had ceased. I was able to let go of the counter, "What does that weigh?" I pointed. "That's half a pound." "Okay, I'll take half a pound of the rocky road, half a pound of the double dark chocolate, and half a pound of the regular chocolate."

I ran back to my car with a bag of Annapolis fudge. I was late for a lunch meet-up with Which Box.

The discomfort barely phased me. I'd just seen Perseus in 3-D fifteen minutes earlier. I could still hear Dr. Spleeney, the world's best (and most handsome) perinatologist, say, "He's perfect." The words I swallowed which went unsaid were, "He looks just like his father." I couldn't say it. Not out loud.

Mr. Hyde once said that women were little more than succubi, seducing and draining men of energy and resource to near death. As with so much, he touched close to truth, missing it just enough to be entirely incorrect.

I loved my husband when Perseus was conceived. If I believed in such things I'd like to think that I did drain him of all that was good and admirable. When I left him all that was left was a miserable shell. What I took, continues to grow into someone healthy, perfectly formed, and loved completely.