While waiting at a red light this morning on my drive to work, I saw through the window of the car in front of me two shadows – driver and passenger – moving closer and closer, finally settling in for a sweet kiss. Being able to witness that private kind of simple love made me smile. It reminded me of all the times Mark and I have leaned in to show each other our own love.
Later on the drive, almost to work, I saw a little hand waving and waving from the backseat of the van in front of me. As I could only see the outline, I wasn’t sure what they were doing until a smile crept to my face as I realized it was a little child beckoning me to wave back at them. I couldn’t help but giggle as I waved in return, reminded of how I used to pump my little fist in the air, up and down, to get truck drivers to sound their horn in salute.
It would be nice if every day started out with a little kiss and a wave, don’t you think?
Right now, I find myself worrying in little ways about what is happening inside me, about if our baby is still safely growing its way into the world. I sometimes wish I had a window to my womb, so I could blow a kiss and wave at the little darling.
The thing is, I don’t feel pregnant, aside from some breast pain and having to go to the bathroom every hour (I’m drinking a TON of water lately, since I think it’s good for the chickpea). I’m not battling nausea or feeling too faint, which irrationally makes me pause with concern now and then. It seems so silly to assume that because I feel so good, something must be wrong. I can think of plenty of pregnant women who only wish they weren’t such good friends with a bucket! Still, we’re taught to believe certain things happen when you get pregnant, so when those don’t happen, it’s easy to wonder if things are coming along as they should.
I can’t seem to find a pregnancy book that will appease all the wonders I have, which isn’t surprising since each pregnancy is so different. This is part of why I write here, even though no one – aside from Mark – knows about this site and/or is reading yet. I guess I just want a place I can come to, an evolving story to call my own. Someday I will most likely look back on this and laugh about all the silly worries I had. For now, though, it’s the only window I have to peer into my own thoughts, as they race about with no place to land.