It's really a bittersweet feeling because I was once alone, and that's all I really knew. Now, I'm alone again, but I have you.
My husband said it first. "I can't believe there's something there!" Then, when my coworkers found out, they said it also. I've heard that phrase so often since November. Funny, something had been "there" since April, but I still hid it until November.
I'm alone again, and there's nothing there. You shared my food and blood. My heart beats lulled you into slumber. My breaths filled your little body with oxygen and my blood brought nourishment to your delicate organs.
Now, you breathe your own air and fall asleep to the rhythm of your own heart's beating. You're only nine days old, but already you're becoming independent. Instead of being "in there," you're on my lap, sleeping happily.
I felt different last April. I didn't understand this feeling until summertime, and didn't fully believe it was true until October. I still have troubles believing that you are really mine. Nine months ago, I was alone and there was nothing there. Then, something wonderful happened. I gave birth to you, sweet Isaac. Now I'm alone again, but it's not so bad.