I used to think that, to ever really like November again, I’d need to have a baby in that month. And then we lost the twins in October and I had two awful months right in a row. And then SB was born in October, adding a radiant light to a dark season.
Yesterday SB turned 38 weeks. She’s officially been longer on the outside than in my belly. (Probably for a while already, as I always find those first two weeks of pregnancy confusing for counting, but let’s go with the established numbers.)
Today should have been my mom’s 60th birthday. I don’t remember usually being sad on her birthdays, but this one makes me melancholic. I’m planning to go downtown to look at local pottery, because that’s what we used to do when on vacation in this country. And I’ll drink a cappuccino, as we always did, and cuddle SB. It is comforting to have this little creature with me, someone to pour all the extra love that bubbles up onto.
Coincidentally, SB’s favorite video (and the only thing that makes her sit still for long enough to cut her fingernails) is The Lion King’s theme song.