Becoming Pregnant

We each bake a cake. Mine. Precise ingredients. Yours. A snip of this a snatch of that a little what’s what! “Trust me! ” (you say) “I know what I know! ” Yours..rises fluffy with delight! Mine. Refuses to rise a hollow crown. “Ah…did the big man’s cakeywakey not risey! ” You mock. “You can eat ...mine! ” You say in a Marie Antoinette way. I am still despondent. “Oh come here! ” you comfort me feeding me hot soft crumbly cake from your mouth to mine. you lead me up stairs “Now, let’s see about a bun in the oven! ”