Her skin glowed, her hair was luxurious, her eyes sparkled, and her tits were even more fantastic.

The woman went on. She had not looked back. She went out of sight up the road: swollen, slow, deliberate, unhurried, and tireless as augmenting afternoon itself. She walked out of their talking too; perhaps out of their minds too.

I'm not a great pregnant woman.

What kind of woman tries to fat-shame a heavily pregnant woman?

I'm the most boring pregnant woman ever.

What manner of mind considers this holy estate [pregnancy] which women are privileged by the Almighty to attain as a slur upon the social conscience?