I\’m in awe of how much the uterus expands in preparation for bringing a baby into the world. In 40 weeks, it increases to 20 times its initial weight and 1,000 times its initial capacity. Currently at 27 weeks, Baby weighs two pounds and is – in produce terms – approximately the size of a head of cauliflower. My womb is the only world Baby knows, a utopia of amniotic fluid that cocoons the little one, providing absolutely everything that he or she needs.
Just as amazing is how quickly my uterus will shrink back three months from now as it readjusts from being Baby\’s microcosm, fading into the background once again as a mere organ among many. The uterus completes its job and retreats. Another organ, however, grows to even greater proportions and never shrinks back: the heart.
Two years ago, I became fortunate enough to gain a new identity: Mama. In that time, something incredible has happened to my heart. Although it physically resides inside my chest cavity, I now wear it outside my body. Wherever Keats goes, my heart stays with him. I\’ve already started to worry about how I\’ll feel when he takes the car out alone at 16 or if he\’s inherited my wanderlust and insists on trekking to far-off destinations.
I\’ve been worrying about Baby, too. I know too many good people who\’ve suffered too much inexplicable tragedy: one couple whose little girl was stillborn at full-term, another who recently lost a baby at 24 weeks gestation due to an undiagnosed ectopic pregnancy. I welcome every kick or squirm I feel with relief, a clear sign that Baby is there, saying hello from within. I have no reason to fear for Baby\’s health…but neither did my friends. Life happens, and we only have so much control.
My heart was worrying more than usual last weekend. Thus, I was extremely grateful for an anonymous quote that a friend of mine posted on Facebook on Monday. The timing was perfect.
\”Stop measuring days by degree of productivity and start experiencing them by degree of presence.\”
The productivity part of the quote is a tangent in itself to save for another time. The presence part resonates with me and speaks to my worries now. The best I can do for myself and my family is to immerse myself in every moment we share. Today, I love Keats at 22 months and 30 days and Baby at 27 weeks. Tomorrow, I\’ll love Keats at 23 months and Baby at 27 weeks and one day. If I spend time worrying about what could happen in the future, then my heart isn\’t living in the present.
To Palimpsest 