Posted by Duff

If you’re reading this, it’s because I’m in labor.

Or, maybe I’ve already had the baby, if labor is kind.

Maybe it happened so quickly I never left my house. Maybe it happened so slowly or with unplanned twists and turns  as to warrant a c-section.

At this moment, writing this, I don’t know.  As I sit with the remnants of Thai takeout, I don’t know my child’s birthday. Or time of birth. Or sex. Or name.  But all of these things will be known soon, or already are, from where you sit.

But for me, this moment of not knowing, in the comfort of pre-labor, is as delicate as dandelion fuzz. At some point soon, a wind will blow, seeds will be scattered to the wind, and there will be a new person taking root in every aspect of my life, scattering yellow blossoms for The Dervish to pick and gather in the basket of her tricycle.

Of course, while you’re reading this, I could be curled into a ball shouting obscenities and accusations at my husband who I’ll suddenly deem solely responsible for the boa constricting my abdomen.

Or, I could be staring serenely at the sweet face of a brand new person who is both stranger and long-lost love to me.  Because no matter what happens to get us there, this is what I ultimately imagine coming to pass.

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