I rolled over on Sunday morning and asked the question I hadn’t asked in a while, "Who is this in my bed?"  I was pleased with myself this time.  The guy was tall, muscular, wide; very hot.  I vaguely remember going to the bar with my friends the night before, but couldn’t remember how I picked this guy up, or what we did last night.  Although, judging by my soreness, I could guess.  It had been a few months since I got any, and I was happy to be back in the game again.

I had been in the city for a few years now and thought I knew everyone, but this guy was new.  I slithered out of bed and got into the shower.  I looked at my nice lean thin physic in the mirror, no wonder I had gotten this guy, I was hot!

By the time I finished taking a shower and got out of the bathroom, the guy was gone.  Only thing he left was a note, 'Thanks for a great night. I know I’ll see you again'.  But no phone number was left; I briefly contemplated this guy becoming a stalker, but brushed off the thought.

I must have gotten mild alcohol poisoning from the weekend, because the next week I felt like ****.  I was nauseous when I woke up and before I went to bed.  I decided that I should lay off the alcohol the next few weeks and just take it easy.

The next few weeks I did take it easy: I laid off the gym, laid off the drinking and just hung out with friends.  Most of the time this ended up going to someone’s house for dinner, or going out for dinner, it always seemed to revolve around food.  That was starting to take effect on my once trim waist.  As I sat up in bed one night I noticed the bulge in my stomach.  It wasn’t big, but looked like I just needed to get to the gym.  What was weird about it is that when I looked in the mirror, I always looked trim.  I asked friends and co-workers if they thought I was putting on weight, but most just dismissed me, and got annoyed that I was asking when they saw me with a 6 pack.

Could this be some kind of body dismorphia?  As the weeks passed, I continued to see myself pack on the pounds.  I looked down and all I could see was a beer belly, but when I looked in the mirror, it was a flat stomach.  I’d put my clothes on and when I looked down, I saw a gap between my jeans and the bottom of my shirt where my belly hung out, but looking in the mirror; nothing.  No one said anything to me, so outwardly I didn’t look fat.

Concerned, I went to my optometrist, who said while I wasn’t 20/20 vision, there was nothing wrong with what I saw.  I also went to the doctor who said I was in perfect health.  He weighed me in, and I was right at the same weight I was last year.  He also felt around my stomach area and felt nothing.  I couldn’t imagine what was happening to me, was I going crazy?  Everything else I saw seemed to appear as everyone else did, with the exception of my belly.

It wasn’t just the appearance of my belly, to me, which was different.  I spent much of my time at home feeling my newfound weight.  It was firm, not soft as you would expect.  I also felt a mass inside of it, immediately I thought it could have been cancer, so I went to my doctor again, who gave me a clean bill of health.  Not wanting to be committed, I decided to keep my mouth shut.  As I gained the weight, I could feel it taking its toll on my body.  My back hurt when I was upright, and I was unable to sleep on my stomach.  In addition to the weight, I also got gas, which caused occasional cramps in my belly. 

One weekend near the end of the summer I decided to visit my sister.  With all the craziness going on in my life, I needed an escape from the city.  She lived about 4 hours away; I had to take a bus, not owning a car.  I got up early that morning and struggled to get out of bed.  I fixed myself some breakfast and lumbered thru the apartment contemplating what to pack.  My hand was constantly on my back as the weight of my belly pulled my back into a deep arch.  Over the past few weeks I experimented with different breakfast foods, as I was usually hit with a bout of gas when I got up.  Sometimes the gas bubbles were terrible, moving around inside of my intestines.

"Ugh." I moaned as I remembered that my overnight bag was under my bed.  I slowly lowered myself to a squatting position and got on all fours and searched under the bed for the bag.  When I finally retrieved it, it took a few attempts to heave myself up to a standing position.  It didn’t matter what I packed as in the mirror it looked like all my cloths fit, but when I put them on and looked down most of them barely covered my every growing belly.

Getting around the city wasn’t as easy as it had been in the past since I didn’t walk as fast as I did before and carrying a duffle bag made my movements even more awkward.

The bus ride, while never nice, was horrible this time.  My back was killing me, and I felt crammed into the little seats.  Every now and then I’d have to lean to one side or another as my gas would come back and my belly would shift sides to escape the pressure.

I was so happy when we finally arrived.  I made my way outside to meet my sister.  She was 7 months pregnant with her 2nd child.  We hugged awkwardly, as I felt her belly press into mine.  She always carried big babies, and I had never seen her this pregnant, so it was kind of alarming to see what the baby was doing to her body. 

Over the weekend we took it easy.  I was usually a go-go-go kind of guy, but in the past 8 months I just felt slower, and with this whole weight thing I just felt too heavy to be as active as I had in the past.  My sister noticed my labored movements, and offered me something for my back, she thought I had just pulled a muscle, but again saw a flat stomach.

Over the course of the first day I saw a lot of similarities in the way my sister was moving, and the way I was.  She moved around slowly, always had her hand on her back, and always complained about the baby moving inside of her.  The part that she and I both liked was going to her pool.  I reluctantly pulled on my swimsuit from last year.  When I looked down, I could barely see my waistband, all I saw was a big round belly, but looking in the mirror, I just saw a 6 pack.  We met each other on the porch, and she was in a bikini.  Her belly was massive; it looked exactly like I felt.  I could see the baby in there, today it was laying sideways with its head out to the left.

We got in the water, and it felt so good.  Suddenly all the pressure was taken off my back, and I felt like a normal person. 

That night in bed I thought about it, could I be pregnant?  How was that possible?  Could it happen?  I wouldn’t have even thought about it, had it not been for seeing my sister.  I put my hands on my big round belly and felt around.  I pushed on one side and felt a bulge on the other.  Also if I pressed too hard I felt movement inside. 

When I got home I immediately went out and got as many books on pregnancy as I could.  I spent much of my time matching my symptoms up to that of the book.  The more I thought about it the more scared I got.  How long would I be pregnant?  How would I give birth?  Would I even give birth?  What if it just kept growing inside of me and never stopped?  Could I make it?

My 'pregnancy' continued just as the books specified.  My belly continued to grow and my back could feel it.  I also noticed the baby moving more, and could make out the head on the lower part of my belly.  Much of this was determined by just feeling around, as mirrors didn’t tell the true tale.  I could feel the head move lower and lower which made me feel like 'birth' was imminent.

One morning I woke up and just felt off.  I wasn’t sure if it was a cold, but I had to call out of work.  It took me longer than usual to get out of bed.  I swung my legs to the side of the bed, and rocked myself until I was able to get to a standing position.  At this time the baby's head was deep in my hips and was causing a terrible ache to them.  I waddled into the kitchen and sat on one of the bar stools and thought about breakfast.  I just wasn’t hungry though.  The rest of the day I spent on the couch trying to get comfortable.

I kept dozing in and out of sleep thorough out the day.  At 6pm I woke up with a terrible backache.  I wasn’t sure it was the way I was sleeping, but it felt like a pulled muscle.  At that point I decided to just pace around the apartment, as sitting and lying down were not comfortable at all.  Still no signs of a cold, I got nervous this could be it.

From 6 to about 10pm I starting getting random cramps, I hoped to God they weren’t contractions, but knew the probably were.  It was a strange sensation, I could feel them start in the small of my back and gradually move around to the front of my belly by my popped out belly button.

They weren’t terrible, but not comfortable at all.  I’d just breathe through them, trying to stay calm, and not wake the neighbors!

Around midnight I was sitting on the rocking chair dabbing the sweat from my brow, when my buzzer rang.  Who could be visiting me at midnight on a Tuesday night?  I looked in the video screen and looked at the guy there.  I didn’t recognize him at all, but he was cute.  I asked him what he wanted, and he said he wanted to talk.  I explained that it was too late and I didn’t know him.  He then came back and said, "I was here 9 months ago, and if my timing is right you might want to see me in the next 4 hours", then he held up a baby one-sie to the video camera.

I was in shock, was this the guy that did this to me?  Why was he here?

I buzzed him in and waited by the door.  I couldn’t tell what I was more scared about, the impending birth, or the guy coming to see me.

When he opened the door, I immediately recognized him.  He came in and his hands went right to my sweaty belly.

"Looks like I’m just in time."

He explained to me that he went around impregnating guys who had unsafe sex in order for them to learn a lesson about consequences.  When I started to get furious, he asked me if Id rather have an STD or go through a pregnancy.  I didn’t have time to ask as I cried out when a contraction came.

My hands immediately grasped my knees as I tried on to fall on the floor.  The man then started to rub my back, and tell me to just breathe.  After the contraction was over, he led me over to the bedroom and got me on the bed.  He started to take down my pajama bottoms, which I normally would have protested to, but at the point I thought it was better to listen to him.  It was too painful for me to lie flat on my back, so I stayed on my side and spread my knees so he could take a look.

I felt his hands move around down there.  He then brought his hands to my belly.  He palmed the sweaty balloon and felt around.  I could feel the baby protest as he would press on one side of my gut. 

"Ah, I see why you are having such bad back labor, the baby is turned so that one of his elbows is against your spine." Normally, as I remember from my readings, the baby is delivered with its back against your back.

He then placed one hand on either side of my belly and said "Just breath, this might hurt a little".  He pressed down on the felt side of my belly, obviously trying to get the baby to shift inside of me.

He pressed for about a minute, and all I could feel was pressure, but eventually he got the baby to shift.

The rest of my labor went on almost by the book.  By 4am I was on the bed on my back moving from side to side trying to get the baby to move down.  It was a slow, but stead progress that had me pushing at 7am.

Pushing was one of the hardest things I had ever done.  All I could do was try to curl up over my bulging belly and grab my knees.  I felt the pressure build as the baby rested its big head against my opening.  I could feel it making progress, but sliding back inside when I stopped pushing.  It took me a good hour to get the head out.  Once it was out the man said I could take a short break and catch my breath before I had to get the shoulders out.  I pushed and pushed and finally delivered what seemed like a 15 pound baby.  When I looked down there was nothing there, and the man was gone.