Well it's been an emotional ride for the last few days. We all feel a bit drained from what has been happening here. Mr. T went to pay his respects to those who died along with hundreds of other people who marched carrying white roses.
The whole situation feels very surreal but mostly we are just trying to get on with our lives. Life must go on. And indeed inside my belly it most certainly does. I can feel my uterus pushing upwards on a daily basis and I have never been more grateful for yoga stretches that make it feel like there is more space in there.
Pebbles kicks away in the mornings and in the evenings and when I do my relax after yoga. It never gets old, it never gets tiresome, it is always w.o.n.d.e.r.f.u.l. When I was about 16 weeks into my pregnancy I started a pregnancy journal to record all my feelings and the momentous occasions (like her first kick) during this time. I ask my mum a lot of questions about when she was pregnant with me but she can't remember much of the detail, it was thirty years ago, she reminds me. So I figured a journal could be useful as perhaps I might forget all those pregnancy details too - and perhaps it will be there for Pebbles to read when the time comes.
I even wrote about the bombing in my journal. I struggle with trying to understand tragedies. I think we all do. Whether its your own personal loss (see here for International Babylost Mother's Day) or on a much wider communal scale like the recent bombing. But perhaps that's just it - there is no understanding. No matter how hard we try, there are no explanations that are sufficient, there is no comprehending that can answer all your questions. It just is. And the world keeps turning.
