Second Trimester

They say this is the moment of complete peace. The gentle lapping between waves, a stomach swollen enough to rest a cup of tea. We’d say it’s true, except for the ways our own bodies expose us. The bow of our bellies smooth and arched like a glorious moon that can no longer be eclipsed. In these weeks, we start to worry as much as we start to wonder: Who is curled inside us, who are we to be the sanctuary for someone to curl inside?

Us Girls wake in sweats to the first flutters of webbed hands tapping from our insides and our breath hitches. How miraculous. How alien. Suddenly, it is not a sacred secret—this thing, this small person within—but a truth demanding to be unleashed. A truth that will soon subject each of us to strangers’ palms pressed to our stretchings. To cold glares that threaten to freeze over all our soft.

Still, we are at peace for these months. Hungry and without all the aching we’d thought would be forever. We conjure names for our would-bes. We dare to let our bellies hang to the wind. As time wears on in this era of relief, we prepare for what is brewing. That at some point, the tides will churn and up out our mouths will come every last ounce of air and, with it, a surrender to what is to come.

But first, one final moment of pure still.