An Open Letter

expectant-motherI think the happiest moments of my life were when I held you in my womb. I felt magical and special. Things were tight. We didn’t even have our own space, our own home. Those external worries couldn’t touch me. I would lay with my hand caressing your temporary home and feel a deep peace. I was chosen. I felt insulated as though I were walking in a bubble looking out at everyone else. I carried a secret, a small life.

Inside me, you grew and I could feel its pull on me. My appetite changed. Fatigue tugged at me sooner and longer than expected. When I would sleep, I would place my hand gently on my forming mound and love you from a depth I didn’t know even existed within me. I read books. What to Expect When You Are Expecting was a favorite. I wanted to be informed. I wanted to be the best I could be for you. I didn’t want to make any mistakes. Already you were perfect and I didn’t want any of my actions to mar that.

babyTwo minute cells joined, formed a blastocyst, then an embryo. How magical is that? The entire order of events have been detailed and confirmed scientifically. Each stage, each development in sequence. Intricate, detailed, and unfathomably  precise. When I think about it…really think about it, I feel awe. There you were, transforming and developing in my womb. A little life that would one day grow perhaps taller than myself. I was once that little life for my mother, too. How did she feel? Did she have any idea how amazing this really is? In her lucid moments, when she smiles at me and hugs me warmly to her shriveled form, I know she does.

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