I'm getting to that stage in pregnancy where one thinks, "Maybe the baby will be early -- really early -- say four weeks early..." Young Smaskig is scheduled to make her appearance in six weeks, and boy do I feel huge. I waddle when I walk; I have trouble getting off the couch and when I do, I have a twinge in my right hip; my center of gravity has shifted; baby is sitting on my friggin' veins! Get off! She's big and healthy and active and loves to kick me all around, especially when I'm trying to rest.
A dear friend of mine had her two girls at about the same time I had mine. She even had a miscarriage shortly after I did, though hers was harder and farther along than mine. So when she called me several weeks ago to tell me she was pregnant again, I could already tell her that she was going to have a girl, since that's what I'm having. She laughed and promised to let me know as soon as she found out.
Last night she wrote me to say that she just had her second miscarriage at 12 weeks. This is understandably devastating to her and to her family, coming within months of the first one. We had been so excited to find out that she was pregnant again, and I feel almost guilty that my baby is healthy and active and hers only lived a short time. Please remember her in your prayers.
It's hard now to complain about feeling uncomfortable.
Two Short Poems on Political Philosophy
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