10,000 Days – Gestation

by practicalspactical

“What is it like — to have a baby in your belly?” I ask my mother. “Isn’t is really strange?”

“Well I knew you — I felt like I knew you. I would play with you — feel you kicking. I knew your name — either Josh or Sarah — and I knew you were a boy.”

“You mean you guessed it.”

“I knew it.”


“So, it was a relationship. With a person. Not with a ghost, or a spirit, or some potentiality.”

“No, right, you were a person, real, a baby, not imaginary or artificial at all.”

“Hmm. That makes it even weirder, and grosser, slippery and living.”

“Sure. There’s a little bit that Alien thing” (which clearly is a devilish yanked-from-the-subconscious attempt to tap into those anxieties of growth and good growth/bad growth — baby v. cancer) “but then you get to know the person and you’re sort of anxious to meet them already.”

Later my father tells me that he has told his childhood (youngadulthood) friend about this blog, and that the friend likes it.

I think about my father then and my father now and me now and me later and me then (the twinkle, as it were) and say to him:

“It must be crazy to have children.”

“You have no idea,” he says.