A smile fled over her face when she noticed he had fallen asleep against her arm and she was careful not to move. It didn’t happen all that often anymore that she could feel the soft rising of his chest against her side, despite too many honest attempts at the wee hours of the day, when she tried to get him to sleep again, by curling up around him.
She had enjoyed to read another chapter, just like that, not in the least disturbed by anything that yet had to be done. Unfortunately, a sharp pain in the back and a few rather well-pointed kicks on her bladder helped her remember she couldn’t doze away unpunished in any position she’d like.
It was exactly for that reason she had chosen to stay home today, vaguely bothered by a feeling of guilt, partly because she was actually longing for the moment she really didn’t have to think about school again. This pregnancy had proven to be so different from the other one. The seemingly everlasting morning sickness (that lasted all day) and now that excruciating pain in the back that made her nights a lot less refreshing than they should be. Her daughter already manifested herself as a very lively little lady and she was curious and nervous at the same time to meet her in September.
A few days ago she had been crying at the view of a series of images showing mothers saying goodbye to their eldest, just before they gave birth. She thought it was heartbreaking – her son didn’t ask for all of this and even if she felt confident about things turning out just well, she cringed when she thought about how his world would be upside down in only a few months and how things would change forever.
An exercice in letting go. Already.