Monday, November 8, 2010


adj \vī-ə-bəl\
Definition of VIABLE
: capable of living; especially : having attained such form and development as to be normally capable of surviving outside the mother's womb <viable fetus>

This weekend my mom told me about this photograph she saw by Anne Geddes, the famous baby photographer
it was of a preemie infant sleeping in someone’s palm. 
she said she thought she read that the baby was 23 or 24 weeks old.

We are in our 24th week right now.

On Saturday we will hit the 6 month mark
where this little one officially becomes “viable”
such a strange word that now holds so much meaning

I feel like this is a landmark to celebrate
And we will, in our own way.
Every Saturday I celebrate 
another week.
But this Saturday will be special

M* will now be capable of survival outside of my body.
This is a strange and obscure thought to understand

Some moments I forget that there is an actual living human within me
How can one wrap their mind around that mysterious fact?

I mean, I feel kicks and punches
movements and pressure when he stretches or changes positions
I now know when he is sleeping or awake
(like last night – in the middle of the night I woke up to go to the bathroom and laid back down to find him then
wide awake and ready to play)

But even still, I can’t quite grasp the reality of what is happening to and
within my body
I try to think about it enough as to understand it
But still the fact of the matter –
There is a person inside of me –
Feels far off and un-grasp-able
No matter how many times my palm is open to reach out and grab it.

I feel present
but somehow strangely far away
watching someone else move through this life
my life
in my body
experiencing all that I had hoped to experience.

But it’s me and I am here
Sitting at my laptop
In silence
trying to understand this mystery.
clicking keys as my abdomen is heavy with a foreign weight
and movements
that at times make it hard to breathe
or even think
if I’m being honest

all else seems superficial
and superfluous

compared to the silent work my body is doing as I type

but I want a record of the beautiful
the surreal
the quite supernatural too I guess,
if I let my head enter the clouds of poetry as i think about it all

Other moments I’m thrust back into the reality
of sciatica and back aches and sleepless hours in the middle of the night
and jackets that don’t button and strangers making comments towards my growing middle.

It is a mysterious puzzling paradox, that’s for sure
but one that is changing me
in more ways than one
and shaping me to be who I’m becoming.


Kati said...

I love this point in a pregnancy: realizing he's complete, with just some finishing to do. If something goes wrong, he doctors can help but even now you are the best place for him.

jess said...

just working on the finishing that kati

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