My wife. My beautiful, wonderful wife. Do you know, you're even more beautiful now than when we first met. Back then, you were only a girl, a cute little girl, a rosebud waiting to bloom. Now you're blooming, the rose is fully sprung out, and its scent is breathtaking. And the girl is now a woman.
Back then, you were slim and nimble, your body was as slender as a boy's, though your breasts were small and perky, and your stomach was flat and lifeless. You had a bounce in your step, you danced down the street, like a little girl. Now your weight slows you down, your steps are slow and heavy. Your breasts are big and round and hanging down, they are resting on the shelf that is your belly. Your belly. Oh, your belly! Your big, rounded belly, with its tightly stretched skin, with its red stretch marks at the sides. Your belly, that trembles every now and then, from an attack from the life inside you, the life that's beginning to find its living quarters too limiting. Soon it will break out of its confinement and be with us, a living, breathing proof of how much I love you.
A mother. You will be a mother soon. The most beautiful mother in the world.
