Musings of a Mum: 13 Weeks
Dear Baby Star,
This week a shadow descended. Did you feel my heart sink? The sadness of grief and shock of pain as we face your Great Aunt Dee's battle with cancer has been a constant companion. Don't be afraid of sadness, for as my child, you will be born of an ancient and contemplative melancholy. If you can learn not to despise its company, you will find it to be one of your truest strengths. It is one of my greatest hopes that you learn to sit patiently in these shadows and sift through the rich soil only a healthy, soulful sadness can produce. We ache for our own loss, as your Aunt Red and Uncle Batman will be leaving Seattle. You will know them until the day you die, but I mourn my friend's imperative role in my life. However shall we manage without them? I'm feeling ever-so lost.
You must have been working on sprouting wings this past week, because despite many hours of sleep, I remained exhausted. I wonder what it's like in there for you. It's as if you already have a life of your own, experiences I know nothing about, sights and sounds and sensations foreign to me. Your independence thrills me.
It was a very social week, did you find it thrilling or exhausting? You heard many of the voices I love. Did you flip all about in celebration of such good company and conversation?
Thanks for playing your little heart-drum so loudly when we went to the midwife to hear you. There you were, a little rapid pounding inside large whooshes of my blood whirring around you. I am shocked at how relieved I was to hear you in there; I wasn't even aware I was worried. What else will your presence uncover in my subconsciousness?
Musings of Scientist:
Dear Fetus: Don't let the sadness of the swamps get to you.