I love Nia Long. And you know I love seeing empowering and beautiful images of pregnanct black women. That's why I just love the October issue of EBONY. But would you pose naked? And in a commuter train station?? Mocha Moms National President Kuae Mattox did, and she shared her story in The Mocha Manual to a Fabulous Pregnancy. Read an excerpt of her experience here.  

Pregnant, Buck Naked and Beautiful Posing On The Train Tracks!

By Kuae Kelch Mattox (from The Mocha Manual to a Fabulous Pregnancy by Kimberly Seals Allers (Amistad/HarperCollins). 

I've got a confession to make, and I must admit, I am smiling sheepishly as I think about it: When I was nine months pregnant, ten days before my son was born, I posed nude for a photographer. That's right, I stood in all my glory, belly protruding, breasts round and full, hair all done up, skin glistening with oil. Now, mind you, it wasn't for a steamy publication for mass male consumption. It was for a respected female photographer working on her own dream book project.

Even so, that was quite a leap for me, to step out of my otherwise ordinary life and do something that was, well, not so ordinary. It struck me especially, because, had anyone asked me to pose nude without being pregnant, I would have immediately scoffed at the idea. In fact, I would have rejected it outright.

So what brought about such a change in me? I guess I can only look to my roots. Growing up, my body image usually hovered between good and excellent. I always had what I considered to be a healthy body image. I was, quite simply, comfortable with my body. As a young girl, I remember being very skinny and sometimes a little awkward. But I credit my inspiring parents, and especially my mother, for teaching me that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and that it comes in many forms. Of course, like many parents, they told me that I was beautiful on the outside, but they always made it a point to show me that the greatest beauty comes from within. My mother, the drama teacher, playwright and romantic, would often share with fondness her own pregnancy stories, and my father, the professor and poet, would tell my brother, sister and I that our entry unto this world was the greatest gift that could ever have been bestowed upon him.

Together, their words and actions, always loving and supportive were my role models, planting the seeds of confidence in my young, impressionable mind. As I got older and started to fill out, I remember as a teenager thinking my body was kind of cute and shapely. I didn't mind revealing a little, but I was never one to flaunt it, or even show it off. I always wanted to be dignified, elegant and classy.

So that's why I was not prepared for this sudden change in mentality with pregnancy. What was it about pregnancy that had me gushing so much I now wanted to show off my body? I had heard the stories that so many women are eager to tell - Girl, you're not going to feel as sexy as you did before...wait till those stretch marks come...your ankles are going to be as big as a cow's...your skin is going to change...your butt is going to get big...if you lose your beauty, that means you're going to have a girl...in the end you're going to be begging that doctor to take that baby out.

Yet, as a pregnant woman (and I can say this with great certainty because I now have three children and I felt this with all three), not only did I feel physically beautiful, I literally glowed from within. It was as if someone, or something, was constantly shining a warm and glorious light around me. I seized every opportunity to marvel at myself in the mirror. I was one of those women who liked to touch her belly and rub it, savoring each and every movement that I felt inside. I carried myself with such an air of confidence. I even stood taller.

Then there was the emotional and spiritual icing, the knowledge that a most precious gift had been bestowed upon me. I felt, quite literally, that my body and my mind now had a higher calling. My self image catapulted to a level that words could barely explain.

So one day in 1999 while working as a producer for NBC News, a fellow producer told me about a female photographer friend of hers who was working on a book about nude pregnant women. She said her friend had taken many pictures of nude pregnant women already, but wanted more women of color. She thought I looked great and that I'd be a perfect subject for her friend.

I was very flattered at the suggestion, but the journalist in me was skeptical. Who was this photographer? Why is she taking pictures of nude pregnant women? What, on earth, could those pictures look like? Were they sleazy, were they trashy?  What's the point? I had a million questions when the photographer and I spoke.

She was patient and very detailed in her descriptions and explanations. It turned out she had always wanted to publish a book of photographs of nude, pregnant women in unusual locations, and she wanted the women to write about their feelings being pregnant. A few days later, samples of her work were in my mailbox. I was completely blown away. The pictures, in black and white, were stunning - women of all shapes and sizes, some posing with delight, others with solemnity, in locations that I could not believe. There was a woman standing amidst a corn field, a woman stretched over the top of her grand piano...a woman standing in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge. The pictures had been taken at different times of the day, so the natural light gave the images an undeniably organic quality and the shadows and shadings made each picture look like a true work of art.

The next day's topic of conversation over dinner with my husband went something like this: "So honey, a friend of mine at work told me about a photographer who is working on a book about pregnant nude women and she'd like to shoot some pictures of me. What do you think?" Of course, the fork went down and the brow went up, but after sharing with him all that the photographer had shared with me, he felt comfortable, and he said the decision was really up to me.

It was almost a month before I called her back. Should I or shouldn't I? Ultimately, I knew that years from now I would be angry with my self if I didn't. And although she could never fully capture the beauty that I felt, I knew that a picture of me in all my pregnant glory would always evoke a sweet memory that would linger for the rest of my life. Just like a smell years later, my dad's pipe tobacco, for instance, can evoke memories of childhood, so, too, could a picture, a visual image, conjure up the powerful way that I felt during pregnancy.

After scouting several locations with meticulous details in mind, we selected an old train station with a historic ticket house near my home. Hundreds, maybe thousands of residents, pass through that station every day on their way to work in New York City. The plan was for me to pose early in the morning standing on the train tracks...I was ready.

It was a blistering cold November day when I woke at the crack of dawn. It was such a strange feeling to shower, smooth moisturizer over my body, and then cover myself with only a winter coat. My heart was not pounding. I was not nervous. I was so calm, and so sure that this was what I wanted to do.

As I stood on those tracks and removed my coat, I remember a rush of cold air swept over my body. There were those few moments of self-consciousness when I wondered if any early morning commuters were watching. Then came a few deep breaths, and as the shutter clicked away, a sheer feeling of liberation.

What she captured in her lens, and what ultimately became the photo that we selected, still brings tears to my eyes. It is a portrait of calm, beauty and grace that I will never forget. Every once in a while, I take a look at my picture. When I look at it, I am that pregnant woman again, full of optimism and hope for my children, feeling whole, at peace with my life and myself. One day, I will show my picture to my children, with the hope that they, too, will feel the beauty that I felt as they grew inside of me. Just as my mother taught me about the beauty that is pregnancy, I hope the picture speaks volumes to my children as well.