Six months pregnant.Time has gone by, so much time since I’ve even looked at this journal. How could I look? Who was this girl that used to write here? She’s just a memory, someone I recognize from pictures, but someone who is long gone.
My life has changed so much. In these past six months, I have been turned upside down, flipped inside out, forgotten myself and discovered someone new. Now my life is not just mine, but co-owned by someone I have never met. In just three months, I will know this person. I will hold this little person in my arms and gaze at its face for hours. I will learn all about its likes and dislikes, teach it to love nature and good food, challenge it to create its own path in the world.
Pregnancy has been an interesting journey for me so far. Full of bumps and unglamorous moments, but also full of awe and anticipation. Exhilaration, every time I feel my little person squirm and kick. It loves music, and the sound of its father’s voice, two things that never fail to get a reaction. On Christmas Eve, Husband took me to see The San Francisco Ballet perform The Nutcracker, a brilliant performance highlighted by the excited thumps within my belly. My little Mozart.
I love this little person already, but in a strangely disconnected way. Perhaps I would feel more passionate if I could call it my son, or my daughter, but I would rather wait to know details like those. For now, I prefer to know it, to love it, simply as my child. Whether it is a boy or a girl is irrelevant to the fact that it is a piece of my soul, and a piece of Husband’s soul, manifested into a new soul within my body. Husband and I were two people, and soon we will be three. Our little family will become a little bigger. I will love this child with a sudden, primal passion that is reserved strictly for mothers. I will carry the torch, and bring the next generation to life.
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