Breath

At this very moment I am sat on my front steps listening to the birds singing their songs, the crows even joining into the beautiful harmony of the background. The wind is rustling in the leaves with a sound that has the deceptive equality to the sound of raindrops falling. I can hear the faint sound of a piano being played in the far distance, someone practicing, using their morning to create music for the few that are awake.

Rohan is a small distance ahead of me, playing quietly in the makeshift sandbox that his innovative daddy created from him, his orange shovel being shoved inbetween his toes in an effort to use these unlikely digits to dig in the sand. The frustration of the difficulty he is having written all over his face.

I am quietly typing away at my computer, sipping my coffee, trying not to make too much sound, or too much movement, in order to prevent myself from breaking this spell that has been created so early in the morning. So peaceful, so magical. These are the days that I am truly grateful for all that I have. This is what I can vaguely recall as the dreams I had as a little girl of what my family would feel like. The morning sun peaking over the trees, the beautiful child playing contentfully, the child within, playfully reminding me of its presence with small jolts and punches.

The stresses of my day are not awake yet, sleeping peacefully in my quiet mind. No job to look forward to, nothing to fill my time today but the impending ultrasound. A confirmation that the baby I carry is alive and healthy.

Breath. In and out. breath. The substance of life, something our bodies do for us subconsciously. Something we ignore. I feel like I can finally take the time to enjoy it, to appreciate it, to expand it and to pay attention to it. Breath.