“Promise me, you will not spend so much time treading water and trying to keep your head above the waves that you forget, truly forget, how much you have always loved to swim.” – Tyler Knott Gregson

I know what you look like. I’ve seen you. I’ve held you. I know how real you are. I know you have little nails… fingers and toes that grab and curl. You can recognise my voice. You are perfectly created, but still too fragile to bear this world. Law only now recognises your existence.  Legally you are considered a ‘baby’, no longer “just a foetus”. I am 20 weeks. You are 20 weeks. Over the 20 weeks you’ve made me relive and withstand all the things I have wanted to drown. How much I have desperately wanted to drown. Next week I can officially say I’ve never been this pregnant before. Uncharted territory awaits. It’s you and me, kid. “I’m only 20 weeks”. If only they knew. I imagine holding you in my arms as you flutter in my belly. I know what you look like. I’ve seen you. I’ve held you. I’m going to have to remember how to swim. Maybe, Little One…maybe we can learn together.

 “Sometimes it’s ok if the only thing you did today was breathe”