I feel like a mythological creature. Big round belly, changed heartbeat, changed breath, everything is different. The way I move, the way I feel inside. I see the world differently, like I am the mom of everyone and I am connected to every mom ever lived. I feel like I've done this before, a million times. I have been in this body before with a baby in it. I have already given birth, I have felt the pain and the irony of pain. Love pours. Love exists. I feel in tune, I can sense things. I can sense intentions of the people around me. I get disturbed by some and ok by some. Walking down the road I want to protect my baby from bad gazes and bad people. At the same time I want to hide from them. I feel vulnerable, like something inside of me is wide open. I feel powerless sometimes, I can't hide, I can't run! I drive with one hand on my belly, almost always. She sometimes moves now. The other day she moved a lot, almost the entire day. We chant together, I imagine her sleeping with 'Shanti-Om'. I imagine her a lot. I know it is a she. I can't explain. I don't lift heavy things any more but I do carry on what I do every day. I ask for help at the supermarket. I ask for help at home. Sometimes in brief seconds I feel like my body didn't change, my belly is just there as it normally would be and I breathe fine. Then I try to turn around in bed, who knew turning from right to left side would be this difficult. The other day it took me 15 minutes to lie face down on a propped massage table. It was a special set up for prenatal massage, there was a pillow with a hollow middle for my belly. Even then the whole time I worried, I triple checked the hollowness but what if she squeezes in there? The same happened with my demi-prenatal jeans. They cut a little into my belly when I sit down, what if she can't breathe? She seems just fine. We talk, she says things like 'moooommyyyy!', 'mommy I'm fine!'. She especially loves it when I teach yoga. Although my body has a hard time sometimes teaching yoga. Sometimes I have to just sit and talk from where I am sitting, sometimes I pretend to have the energy to give people energy, usually it works. Swimming feels wonderful, something about reduced gravity. I sometimes just hang in water and imagine us both (the baby and me) hanging in there. I eat things that make sense to me, lots of legumes, soups, bread with cheese, milk. I ate a ton of chocolate chip cookies the other day and chips with salsa. Gluten-free still helps. I don't fuss over it if I don't though, it's just too much trouble. Ever since she is moving I sometimes stop and call her and wait for her to move. She moves to Tevfik talking. I'm pretty sure she can feel his presence. When she is silent I imagine her being busy with growing up :) It is a lot of work growing up. Just the other month she doubled in size from 1.5 inches to 3 inches. She also gets silent after meals, I imagine her eating after I eat, my blood stream full of chocolate-chip deliciousness. I think our house will be fine for her. We'll get everything ready, as much as we can. The way it is will be ok, it will be just as it needs to be. I think everything will be ok, with us, with our lives. I know this now. I still throw up sometimes, mostly after brushing my teeth. I used to love brushing and brushing. Now I rush through it as quickly as I can. I still cry sometimes, sometimes it's just too much. Too much going on. Sometimes needing someone to help me get up out of the couch gets to me. It's not frustration. It feels a lot like being 2 years old and not being able to help yourself and crying just because of it. I think I'll know how she'll feel. I think I'll always know how she'll feel. I am closer to my mom now. It just happened. She went past her menopausal hormones and I went past my 20-craziness and suddenly everything was alright. There was some work involved of course, on both our parts. Some listening, some forgetting, forgiving and some understanding. All the pregnancy books I didn't read stare at me. I feel like I just need to feel things, I don't need to know everything. I take long naps and there's always something to do in my laptop, in the house, in the kitchen or some errand to run. Days pass by. It feels like a field, silent with seeds, waiting to burst out with all sorts of life and growth. It feels silent now and I rest in that silence. Like a good vacation, a break where my job is to listen. Listening to everything around me and everything in me.