Thanksgiving weekend. Gratitude felt anew this year, even though much was the same. We spent time with our families, we ate together till we were full. We expressed our gratitude in the form of lists and conversations and prayers. We observed the swinging of temperature and wind and weather. But something changed the colour of it all. 

        At night, we lay awake talking about what we will name him. Or her. In the morning, we put our hands over my stomach to feel his kicks. He reacts to our touch now, to noises, to the change in temperature when I climb into the bath. This stirs emotions in me that are both calm and furious.  In my mind, my heart is turning into a large wild animal. They say touch is the oldest and most urgent of the senses. Is it still called touch, when it is felt internally?  We are becoming parents. How to be properly thankful this gift, will remain a mystery.

this small song.