A new Universe has been conceived inside me. Two forms of life entered into a mutually beneficial union: they reunited the qualities missing in each other and mutually screwed themselves into the womb. The millionth sperm finally met that egg. Wow!
I spent a long time looking at the first ultrasound image in the kitchen. The photograph looked more like space, where a light of new energy shone in the depths of the imaginary expanse. They say this force dramatically changes the lives of future moms and dads.
The doctors are counting my due date from January 1st. I should give birth at the beginning of October. I feel like it's a girl. I haven't had any morning sickness, but the mood swings are definitely manifesting in a vivid form. Now, two hearts are beating in my body. One at 160 beats per minute, the other trying to stay calmer, so as not to harm the main, first one.
The very word "motherhood" smells slightly of mothballs to me, and the girls walking outside with strollers only cause boredom and gloom mixed with pity. I'm trying to look at more photos of happy mothers on Instagram and believe in their truthfulness. I promised myself to be honest with my child from day one.
12 weeks and 4 days. The baby already has a nose, little hands, and little feet. I'm trying to meditate more, placing my left hand over my heart and my right hand on my stomach. I smile inwardly and channel my maternal love through the warmth of my palms. Sometimes, the tears just come. Yesterday, I accidentally saw a news report about a military sniper helicopter in Syria shooting people from the air. The journalist asked the pilot, "Aren't you afraid of accidentally killing innocent people?" The subject of the report responded, "Every day before work, I pray to God that I'll only hit terrorists." How can I gently tell my unborn child about the hell that people create?
Write a comment