This morning, I woke up to singing birds outside my window, and a husband putting a steaming, fresh mug of coffee on my bedside table. He does this for me almost every day, but I don’t take it for granted – ever. This morning it meant even more, though…I didn’t sleep well last night, and it was extra hard bringing myself around to consciousness. Pumpkin hadn’t yet started to stir, and my comfortable pillow and nest I’d made with the covers were compelling me to hang on to sleep for at least a few more minutes. The smell of the coffee and the sound of the birds brought me around, though.
I’m feeling the baby move at least once or twice a day now. Each time, it gives me a little thrill. It is so surreal and special to know that there is another child inside of me, sharing the same space where Pumpkin used to be.
It was a good day.