During the day, I hardly know I am pregnant. Yes, there is a belly to contend with and the occasional kick and wiggle. And of course it is nice to lie down after a short walk here or there. But that all is normal now. It requires no thought. It is just The Way My Life Is. That’s all there is to it.
But then at night. The sun is long gone and the dishes are done and I hear cars and crickets. And though my eyelids droop and my feet want to rest, I hesitate a moment in falling asleep. Because I feel a little flurry of excitement. This night could be the night. There is some kind of quiet magic in that possibility.
Did I feel this way last time? Did I stay up too late lying in bed distracting myself before finally falling asleep in my clothes (too tired to bother with pajamas that don’t fit well anyway)? Was it because I was happy? And feeling chatty? I don’t remember. And I didn’t write any of it down. All I remember was buying two bags of heavy pears and carrying them to the car.
Yes, there is a quiet sort of magic.
(It could be tonight, you know. This, tidy, quiet night could suddenly turn into something completely different.)