September 15th marked the start of my third trimester. I was just three months from having Ben's baby, and I was getting used to life on my own now that he was off at college. We talked a few times a week and he painted a picture for me of early-morning classes, late nights at the library, and budding friendships with kids from his dorm.
In turn, I told him about my days: my relief that the sticky summer heat was starting to subside, the way my coworkers had started to count the number of times I went to the bathroom every day, the baby's fun new habit of kicking me awake around four in the morning.
Ben worried I was lonely, and I was. But I assured him I was seeing friends, going to parties, all the things a mom with a (momentarily) empty nest was supposed to do. I worried that he was lonely, but he promised he wasn't too homesick.
Our phone calls were always chaste; you never knew who might be able to overhear. I wanted to ask him, "Aren't you homesick for me? Don't you miss the fun we have? Don't you want to come home and fuck me?"
Without seeing him in person, it was impossible to know whether he was moving on, pretending like our special relationship never existed. I wanted him to go out and have his own life and not be held back by me. Honestly I did. But it felt like a breakup all the same.
What I didn't tell my son over the phone was that my hormonal needs hadn't stopped when I hit the third trimester. I didn't tell him I'd ordered a vibrator online and used it almost every day when I came home from work and before bed. I didn't tell him I closed my eyes and imagined him when I masturbated. I told him every time we talked that I missed him, but I didn't explain all the ways I missed him.
The closest I got was when I told him how badly I could use a massage. I was entering the achy stage of pregnancy, everything from my shoulders to my back to my feet struggling with the extra weight. I fantasized about Ben rubbing my back almost as much as I fantasized about him making me come.
Ben, as always, would do anything for me. After I told him about my aches and pains, he asked if it was OK for him to come home that weekend. Soon I was buying him a bus ticket and couldn't wipe the smile off my face.
By the time the weekend rolled around, it had been nearly a month since Ben and I saw each other. There was a fall chill in the morning air as I drove to the bus stop. I put a little effort into my appearance, taming my hair and wearing a little makeup and wearing a new sweater that hugged my bump. It started to rain as I drove, dashing my plan of waiting for Ben outside my car, showing off my look.
The bus arrived and I could barely see out the windshield, between the rain and the fogging windows. I thought I saw Ben get off but wasn't sure until he spotted my car and approached. I unlocked the back gate and he dumped his stuff in-- a duffel bag and what looked like a big bag of dirty laundry. My heart was racing.
"Hey, baby!" I called out over the sound of the rain. "Get in quick!"
Ben ran around to the passenger side and climbed in. His hair and jacket were soaked from just a few moments outside. "Hey, Mom," he smiled.
"Are you growing a beard?" I asked. Ben blushed. It looked like he hadn't shaved since he left, and his baby face was buried under a layer of dark stubble.
"I guess so," he said. I leaned in and kissed his fuzzy cheek. My nostrils filled with the smell of him, the smell I'd missed so much.
"It looks good!" I told him, and it was true. He looked like he'd grown up a lot. Now it was his turn to size me up.
"Thanks. You look, uh..." He glanced down at my stomach. At seven months, I was already getting "ready to pop" comments. My belly was beginning to fill my lap.
"Huge?" I laughed, patting my tummy. Ben laughed with me.
"No. Well, uh, yeah, you definitely got bigger. But you look good." He was looking at my face now, seeing me with my hair and makeup done for the first time in a while. We both blushed. Rain hammered the roof of the car.
"He's already almost four pounds. I don't know how I'm gonna make it to December," I groaned.
"Can I feel?" Ben asked. I smiled. After all we'd done together, he still asked permission to touch me. I undid my seatbelt and presented my stomach, and he rubbed it through my soft sweater. "Wow. It's getting so tight!"
"I know!" I marveled with him. "I really had a growth spurt while you were gone. I got a bunch of new stretch marks too," I added with a sigh.
"Can I see?" Ben asked. I glanced around. The parking lot was emptying out as people rushed home in the rain. Besides, it's not like there was anything strange happening. Just a young guy feeling his mom's pregnant belly.
I lifted my sweater and peeled down the stretchy panel of my pants, revealing my bump in all its glory. My skin already looked stretched to its limit, getting thin, veins showing through. My once-cavernous bellybutton was shallow and stretched out, on the verge of disappearing. The stretch marks I'd talked about were red and jagged, along my lower belly.
Ben stared, fascinated, then touched it. His skin against mine made me shiver. The air in the car was hot and humid. My son traced slow circles around my stomach and rain dripped from his hair.
"I can't believe it," he said.
"What, that I'm so big?"
He hesitated. "That we did this." His hand slid around to the lower slope of my stomach, feeling the stretch marks. "We made this baby."
"I know," I said. "How do you feel about it?"
Ben nodded and kept rubbing, staring at my stomach. "It's weird," he said. "Kind of weird and kind of amazing."
"Weird how?" I asked, knowing full well this was weird in lots of ways.
Ben shrugged. "It's kind of scary. I really can't believe I'm going to be a father."
"You know that's not what I expect," I reminded him. "You just have to be a big brother."
Ben kept stroking my stomach. "Yeah. But I'll always know I'm really his dad."
I nodded. My lonely, hormonal body was responding to his touch. I wanted him. I wanted to take him home and strip those wet clothes off of him. But if he was feeling weird about this, I wanted to talk it out.
"You don't regret that we did this, do you?" I asked.
"No," Ben said immediately. "I wanted to give you what you wanted. And, uh..." he went red. "It's been fun. It's exciting. I really don't regret this."
I smiled. "I missed you." The rain was really coming down.
"I missed you too," he said, so softly I could barely hear it.
"Should we get home, then?" I asked.
