“I hate to tell you this, but I think it’s peeing inside you now.”

Winchester always knows what to say to creep me the fuck out. My relationship to the fetus is obviously different from other expectant mothers. It’s really hard to tell how much of my attitude towards the creature is a result of the simple fact that I have no desire to raise it and how much of it is a carefully constructed defense mechanism. I like to think of it as a little, harmless parasite* growing inside me. Whenever Winchester attributes too much autonomy to it, though, I get uncomfortable. So when he turned to me while I was driving and said “it’s the size of a fig† and it’s flailing constantly, though you won’t be able to feel it for weeks. It’s a wiggling figgling” I almost drove off the road. Ok, not really, but I squealed and squirmed and flailed my arms a little. The thing is, I don’t FEEL pregnant - I haven’t had any ‘symptoms’ and my belly’s still flat -- I just haven’t had my period in a few months (AMAZING). So it’s really hard to conceive of a semi-autonomous fig dancing in my abdomen, and it’s really creepy.