Meditations on my Pregnancy

I recently realized that when I think of Joni, I most often think of the events that followed her death, as opposed to actually remembering my experience with her.  My time being pregnant with Joni was very different from what I know of her now.  I do so much processing of and thinking about her death and the dominos of my life that have come crashing down since then, that I rarely ever meditate on and remember my pregnancy. So, though I know my words will fall short, I'm going to attempt to recall my pregnancy with Joni:

Gladness.

Feeling of being "blessed".

Warmth.

Her heart beating at 160+ beats per minute and hearing that beautiful sound just once.

A little baby kick in my lower abdomen against my seat belt.

Itchy skin earlier than the time before.

Surprise!

Doubt.  Disbelief.

Feeling ill-equipped to care for a newborn in just months.

Anxiety.

Overprotection.

Looking down at my belly in the shower-- roundness, fullness, goodness.

Discomfort and uncertainty.

Why do I hurt like this?  What's wrong?

Talking to baby, but not enough.  Feeling detached.

"Felicity, the baby is growing in my belly and will be here this summer.  You will be such a good big sister!"

Hiding the bump...at least until a little bit longer.

I still can't clearly remember my belly, and that is really frustrating to me.  Maybe it's that I can't have it, and that is what is really frustrating.  What was my body like before?  What was it like during the pregnancy?  I don't know.  Nothing is familiar.

Inadequacy.

Discomfort: tugging, pulling, stretching.

Honor.

Privilege.

This is good.  This is right.  This feels natural.