From now on I'm supposed to be talking to an entirely new person.
Normally that doesn't faze me. I'm good at meeting new people. In a group of strangers, I can chitchat with everyone for quite some time and I don't get shy until afterwards, when everyone else is warming up.
But this new person... I don't know. What do you say to a tiny someone who is growing inside of you? Sorry about the gas?
He or she is in there right now, and is at fourteen weeks the size of a lemon, squinting and hiccuping and moving about, and apparently: listening. The sound of my voice is supposed to be reassuring. So what do I say?
Well, there are many things I'm going to tell you about, little one. So many cool things to find out about nature and people and history and everything. But maybe the one sentence I'm looking most forward to saying to you is this:
'In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.'
It may not seem like much at first glance, but trust me, it's like a hidden, wrought iron gate that you suddenly discover while walking along an old, overgrown hedge. Or it's like a little window in a stone tower or an old barn that suddenly reveals the most glorious view.
On the other side of that gate and that window is the realm of stories, kid, the most wonderful part of this or any world.
I just can't wait to show you that.
7 comments:
Oh Tone, I am so THRILLED we are going through this magical journey at the same time!!!!!! I picture some day in the future the six of us around a campfire somewhere sharing stories -- in California or Norway or Brazil or Madagascar. Who knows! You bring The Hobbit. I'll pack some folktales. Someone learn to play the guitar between then and now (unless you or Pan already do; we don't!).
BIG HUGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Jim whispers secrets to my belly each night; I don't know what he is saying. It's not fair: I can't get so close to my own belly to whisper!)
tonelove, I hope you are glowing and growing and enjoying every second of it!
no nausea, morning sickness or overwhelming tiredness to speak of?
seven and a half months in, I myself am doing great. it's a crazy carnival ride that tumbles and twists and rollercoasts inside my belly constantly now. baby seems eager to get to know the world outside already, but hopefully he (or she?) won't mind hanging around in the pool a little while longer, for I know I'm not ready for him to pop out and say "hello" just yet...
At this stage (and for quite some time yet), I think he/she is quite content hearing you recite your grocery list, so long as he/she hears the sound of your voice. When I was a newborn, my mom read to me from whatever book she was reading at the time. Apparently my first book was Solzhenitsyn's The Gulag Archipelago. Because, you know, that's a title every nursery should have. ;)
Laini, we can absolutely go camping! Though maybe not in Brazil, too many creepy crawlies for me, I'm allergic to the bites of anything smaller than a sparrow. But maybe a savannah a in the non-rainy season? See if we can get the zebras to listen in. None of us can play the guitar, but Peter's really excellent at pitching tents and building fires.
Camilla, I'm actually feeling quite fine, the tired fog is lifting and there has been no nausea since a week after Christmas, and it wasn't really that bad then either. I can't wait for the kicks to kick in :)
Okay, Heidi, Gulag, I'll try that. Haha. Though so far I'm sure the little one must think he is a cat. No kitty, hi kitty, wow kitty!
I promise you, little one, that I will be the best aunt you'll ever have! (Envisioning fierce fist fights with Christina - me winning.)
I can't wait either.
Hey.... are you sure about that Line? ;-) but you do have the home advantage of living in Oslo, while I live all far away.
Any way, lucky kid, having two best aunts!
I can't wait either.
can I be one of the aunts as well??? don't have to be the very best aunt...
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