In January I was so full of you I thought I would burst. But I didn’t, and we waited, warming ourselves with pots of soup and all our hopes for you.
At night I held my huge bulge of belly and felt the places where your bones pulled my skin tight.
In the day, I felt the round of your head between my legs and wondered how you could be so close when I couldn’t see your face.
I asked you to come out soon so I could hold you, but I also asked you to wait for the right time. I knew that the few inches you had to travel might feel like ascending a mountain for us.
When you finally decided to come out, you didn’t hold back. I tried to breath while you dropped through my body and tore out with lightning speed. But when I held you for the first time you were all softness and glow, nuzzled on my chest like you’d been there all along. I knew we had chosen the perfect name for you: Pearl Luciana, our precious light.