The Conversation I Never Had With My Body
A journey of pregnancy and childbirth of a first time mother
August 8, 2024. 3:20P.M. Duration 2 minutes, 22 seconds. Frequency 4 minutes, 37 seconds. Damp asphalt, soggy, droopy trees, a canopy of gloomy cottony clouds that grew darker into the horizon — it is raining. Despite the cold, I feel a trickle of sweat beads tracing down my back. It’s not because of the jacket but because of anticipation, excitement, and fear — bubbles of emotions frying my senses. I turn away from my contraction tracker app, the screens blurring out from every springy bounce of the tricycle. Instead, I glance up and obsess over the raindrops hanging like crystal gems on the edge of the roof, quivering and threatening to fall down my feet with every awkward jerk of the squeaky vehicle. The sky is gray, the leaves glossy green, my knuckles white as I clutch my phone tight preparing for another bumpy spot on the road. My heart drop a little and I whisper a familiar prayer. I am late to my doctor’s appointment.
In a close-knit, small, nosy community it is perfectly normal to grow up confused. In fact, indecision is the only constant reasoning I can comfortably claim. I always had difficulty navigating the gray area. So it didn’t come as a surprise that I can’t decide whether to ignore or obsess over my body.
