I’m quietly turning inward, a bit tired and terrified, sitting in this chair feeling my baby wrestle with my insides.
He’s more active now, a rolling-dancing wiggle worm. His movements are his voice. How, he’s very much alive inside of me. At times, weighing me down, pressing all of my buttons. The pee button, the gasp button, the fart button… The poking nudges let me know he loves me.
I’m quietly observing, reflecting, remembering, praying and trying to see the future.
My heart expanding, my tears increasing, burning eyes, rocking baby through the cries, laundry invading every room and diapers, and diapers, and diapers…
There will be smiles and coos. Sucking and kneading of breasts. Tender moments between mother and son. In the middle of the night, the two of us connected, touching skin to skin, no words just pure love.
It’s simple. Isn’t it? Love, feed, excrete, sleep, inhale, exhale. Repeat. The basics of survival. Shelter and all of life’s needs begin in the womb.
I’m quietly surrendering to the life inside of me as we grow in these last few weeks –
Quietly savoring our final moments as one.