My little 28 week bump.

As Charlie gets closer to turning one, I’ve been looking back to my pregnancy. Life before Charlie seems so distant and now even that seems a fading memory. But as I go through my old posts, I am brought straight back to that place. That curious place of pain and mystery and wonder. The anticipation of those final weeks is paramount. Here is a poem I wrote to celebrate the 36 week mark:

Baby growing

growing, growing, growing

like a forest, ever expanding

there’s no room but still you push

and press your face against the wall

I feel you move, mighty legs

a hand reaches out –

searching for another’s, for mine perhaps?

I rub my belly, barely recognizable

There are lines there now, marking your existance

I am a tree and they, my rings

my journey to here.

You nudge me again and I smile

I want to hold you,

sink my lips into your skin

and give you a mother’s kiss

not long to go now, baby

not long, not long…


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