Do you want to hear a funny joke? Two weeks after hitting send on this newsletter
I woke before dawn, peed on four sticks, and found out that I was pregnant. Just like that. Each pregnancy test was a different brand, leftover from two years of urinating and handwringing. I sat there in stunned silence, my heart audibly beating outside of my chest over the hum of the bathroom fan while four little displays stared back up at me: yes and yes and yes and yes.
I felt the urgent need to tell an adult. Any adult. Instead, I quietly padded back to bed, barefoot and now pregnant.
I’ve always been a firm believer in the self-sabotaging notion that if you want something too much you will most likely not get it. This has only been reinforced by fact that the minute I neglected my uterus and started casually saying things like “oh, maybe we should just travel for a bit” an egg divided and cells began to multiply.
What has vocal chords but cannot speak? What has eyes but cannot see? What is it like to get exactly what you want? Everything is an elaborate riddle these days.
As I type this the baby is the size of a troll doll. It has fingerprints. It can frown. If I push against my belly it will move in response.
The ultrasound photos on our fridge look exactly like every single ultrasound photo ever taken. The heartbeat I have looped on my phone sounds like every single fetal heartbeat ever recorded.
She’s in there. Swimming. Practicing becoming human. Just like the rest of us.