Speaking of birth …

My youngest just approached me and asked me out of the blue if I remembered him being born. (He’d just seen something about it on television, I think.)

I said, of course, yes, I did, and asked him if he remembered being born.

He gazed off for a moment, trying to remember, and of course, came up with nothing.

He said, “What was I born in?”

I said, “You came out of my tummy, and the doctor handed you to me, so that I could hold you.” And I cradled my arms as if I was holding a baby.

He’d been nearing me as we were talking, and up close, he looked at my arms with a concerned, thoughtful face.

“Was I dead?”

“No. You were born.”

“Did I cry in your tummy?”

“No. You laughed and played and kicked and got the hiccups.”

“Did you watch me in your tummy?”


He seemed satisfied.

A. ... at about three months

Write. Talk. Tell me everything.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: