Almost Peaceful Agony

I have always thought that pregnant women hit this moment, somewhere around the seventh month, where they become the most radiant and beautiful, almost mystical creatures on the planet. The bond is fully formed, and the baby’s body is still strongly united with the mother’s, and there is this glow about her, like she has become sacred, more than human, a bearer of God’s breath into the world.

This is something I thought about after my doctor’s appointment, when, over lunch, I felt a great exhaustion overcome me, and I put my fork down and pita down and pushed away my plate and rested my head in the warmth of his outstretched palm on the tabletop in silent, almost peaceful, agony.

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About A B

"There is all this untouched beauty, the light, the dark, both running through me." -Over The Rhine
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