The waves of this pregnancy break over my belly in tired, tight ripples warning me that I’ve done too much. I feel her kicking as my side tightens and my muscles groan in familiar protest.

29 weeks.

It feels heavy. Weighty. To have the responsibility of growing another human being.

He finds me where I am lying on the bed. He has his brand new legos with him. We’ve just returned from picking them out, it’s late, and still he wants to build just one more set. I see knights and valor dancing in his eyes. And diligent determination spelled out by his finger tips.


She kicks, he builds; and I am growing them both.

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