My body is officially no longer my own. I feel my consciousness has been high jacked, torn from its rightful place in a world of coherent meaning and stuck in shared temporary housing. The other occupant being my unborn child creates that much more complexity as I joyfully hobble about in the discomfort of the heat. I can no longer see my toes while standing up and have to contort both belly and neck to get a glimpse of my belly button. But even my belly button is smiling as it is stretched into this new state of being.
Santa Barbara in June is usually socked in fog and months ago I anticipated this usually unpleasant state of being with some relief. However Thomas, whose ability to manifest even the most unthinkable state of affairs like the weather, has brought us a thoroughly sunny June and now July has come and the sun is sure to stick around. This crowded body is roasting to the core and I all I can do is request a light breeze from the weather gods and perhaps a little patience from those around me as I slip into frequent bouts of disgruntled behavior.
The baby is still growing and very active. We have three weeks until the impending due date arrives; however I keep telling it at this point its welcome anytime. We’re ready when it is. Although the house is a mess and there is no sign of that “nesting” instinct yet to whip it into shape, but all in due time. I’m just so excited about going into labor, meeting our new baby and starting our new life that I can’t really focus on any one thing these days. I’ve stopped cooking almost completely and I don’t know where my phone could be located; I’m lost in another world completely and it’s fully of hummingbirds, art projects, meditation and long afternoon naps. Kind of blissful actually, like a circling a star while floating suspended in space or spinning until you’re dizzy.
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