I have not seen my child’s face and yet I know it.
I have not held her in my arms but I have held her in my womb.
The weight of her body turns me into a vessel.
She is here, a feather in our midst, resting so quietly that we have moments of forgetting.
My baby and I, we coexist without effort, one breath and two bodies.
No empty spaces between us.
We whisper secrets without making a sound.
We will spend years pushing and pulling and sustaining one another.
But for now, this is a gestating love.
– Lucy Miller Robinson
These words originally appeared on Lucille in the Sky.