A few weeks ago I cried at the hospital. It was the end of a prenatal class where we’d been talking about the birthing process. We were all lying on our sides, propped up by a mass of pillows, spending some welcome time in relaxation before the class ended. I’d felt the tension in me…
Be safe. Be safe. Be safe. These words have become my main prayer for the child growing steadily inside me. It’s what I wish to it in prenatal yoga class when our instructor gives us a moment to send the baby a message. It’s what I pray with every twinge, every uncomfortable stretch of ligaments…
We took a photo for the first time that Sunday afternoon, eight weeks ago. I’d always imagined I’d do a photo with the pregnancy test, like the many I’ve seen on Pinterest—the ones where nine months later that little piece of plastic is replaced with a baby. But the two tests I did were the…
