Musings on Pregnancy

Last time I was pregnant, I was struck with the thought that God is always present with us in the same way that my unborn child is always present with me. Sometimes I notice I am pregnant, and sometimes I do not. Sometimes there is a ruckus going on inside of me that makes the child's presence unmistakable. Sometimes, I can forget for a day or so that anything special is going on. It was a profound and moving thought that I cherished for quite a while.

This time, I am fascinated by the less profound and much weirder thought that I am a human incubator. It is kind of a weird thing to just be walking around, sleeping, eating, conversing, buying groceries, brushing my teeth, typing on the computer and going about other mundane daily tasks, while I am cooking a new human life. I get images in my head of all the equipment that is used to keep a premature baby alive, or of the little incubator we had in grade 5 when we tried (unsuccessfully) to hatch chickens. Only all that rigmarole is somehow contained within my skin -- all my major organs have been diverted to the secondary purpose of establishing and sustaining this second life within me. My lungs, heart, stomach, bladder, ribcage, hips, and uterus are no longer my own. They are the pipes, pumps and heaters used to keep this tiny life growing and thriving. When I start thinking like this, especially in a room full of women where several are pregnant or new monitors, I find that I have to back away from the thought. It is too strange and wondrous for me.