I had a shocking revelation today. I'm pregnant.
Not in the natural--no kids for the Gypsy, please.
(Don't get me wrong, I love kids once they're big enough to be interesting and play with and throw around without breaking. Some of my favorite people are kids, or have kids. In fact, the majority of my favorite people once even WERE kids. I'm just not real wild about lugging 'em around in my uterus for 9 months. Or lugging 'em around out of my uterus for 18 years. And that whole giving birth stuff? Eeeeew.)
But something has been growing in me these past many months. Somewhere in that dark and liquidy realm of limitless and undifferentiated possibility, something has been growing. I've tried to explain it to my mom, my cousin, my brother. I don't know what I'm trying to explain, beyond "there's something happening in the unseen...."
The growing feeling of creative constipation. Acting on strange cravings when I should be completing practical tasks. The spiritual swollen-ness, the heaviness: not quite paralysis, just immobility around what I THINK I should be doing.
The process is accelerating. I realize the number of times over the past few months I've groaned, "I just want it DONE already!" Now it makes perfect sense.
I anticipate an easy labor, God willing. I have no idea what they'll look like, but I can't wait for the little Gypletts to arrive!
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From the chrysalis emerges the butterfly. I'm there myself. This summer will be one of transitions... moving from one view of life to another.
ReplyDeleteThis is the calm before the storm; the grey traces of dawn that tend the eastern sky.
Good analogy!
ReplyDeleteThis is very different. Lord knows I've spun and broken many a chysalis. In this instance I am not the object of the transformation, but the gestator, the birth giver.
Literally, imagine all the physical symptoms of pregnancy (except the big, babyful belly!)
The chrysalis, I know intimately. This is a whole new world.
Something I learned yesterday: Before you go into labor (or break away from the cocoon), be sure to have a pen and paper handy. 'Cause those things can erupt when you least expect it, and if you're not ready, you'll spend your time reconstructing things like a dehydrated archeologist.
ReplyDeleteBirth? Erupt? Ew.