I think this bean has long legs. It would make sense because her dad does. She is stretching all the time now, and pushes her booty into a lopsided mound on my left side, which gets really pointy. And then she presses against my other side with her feet. So I'll have this pointy mound to the left, with a straightened out stomach in between, and then a protrusion on my right.
I can also feel her hiccuping. With her booty to the left, below is her back, and the hiccups originate from that left side. Tiny rhythmic hics from her swallowing practice. I'm trying to stay hydrated ("watering the baby", as I like to think of it), and hope it's helping to keep things flowing in there.
Next acupuncture appointment soon. Birth classes start next week. Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines...
Friday, April 16, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Space Between Us
Weeks are speeding by. The birth of myself as someone's mother is on the horizon. Sometimes I put my hands on my belly and think about how there is no space between us. There are layers of skin and flesh that surround her body, kept some distance from my head where the wondering happens, but really she is me. And I am her. The outside of her body is bathed in the insides of mine. The inside of her body is created from what I am, what I think about. We are each other.
In creation, I want to add ingredients like dancing and pragmatism and compassion and genius. The spinach I eat for our bodies contains calcium and iron, and that part is easy, but I can only hope that the joyful tremors shaking my body from my laughter will be used in the fabrication of her light and elated heart. I hope the love I feel for simple things like hugging and cooking and springtime help to form the blue box of her mind, help to shape her ability to understand that she is a gift and a light. I want her strength to shine, and when I look at her, I want to be reminded of serendipities and synchronicities and ephemera, of lucky stars and worthy challenges and a love-filled life whose brilliance is unmistakable.
I like to think of her practicing her smiles in secret, grinning in my torso. She presses her little feet against my belly and I press back and dance her around when she gets very squirmy. I know this is the beginning of the awe I will feel for having participated in creation on this level. I hope I will always be able to remember, with gratitude, the visceral, ecstatic force of our inter-nestled lives.
In creation, I want to add ingredients like dancing and pragmatism and compassion and genius. The spinach I eat for our bodies contains calcium and iron, and that part is easy, but I can only hope that the joyful tremors shaking my body from my laughter will be used in the fabrication of her light and elated heart. I hope the love I feel for simple things like hugging and cooking and springtime help to form the blue box of her mind, help to shape her ability to understand that she is a gift and a light. I want her strength to shine, and when I look at her, I want to be reminded of serendipities and synchronicities and ephemera, of lucky stars and worthy challenges and a love-filled life whose brilliance is unmistakable.
I like to think of her practicing her smiles in secret, grinning in my torso. She presses her little feet against my belly and I press back and dance her around when she gets very squirmy. I know this is the beginning of the awe I will feel for having participated in creation on this level. I hope I will always be able to remember, with gratitude, the visceral, ecstatic force of our inter-nestled lives.
Hunger is Much Less Endless...
Crazy eating has leveled off. And therefore so have my ruminations on the topic. Rounding out nicely, still wearing normal pants, tai chi twice a week, long walks home over the BK bridge mixed in. I can't believe there are only 9 weeks (give or take) left.
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