To my little one who pushes me from the inside out:
because of you
my eyes see new colors.  
Funny how
there are perhaps as many nuances of love
as there are shades of green in a summer forest
and there is only the word “love.”
Sadness too.  
Like the sadness of giving up
something you didn’t know you wanted.  
That was you.
Was you.
You occupy me.  
Within and without.  
My feet and my heart ache.
I watch how people's’ eyes are drawn to my stomach.  
Celebrating roundness
where there was once flatness
and that was once celebrated
is also a funny thing.  
I do want to laugh and it is easy to.  
Crying is also easy.  
Sometimes they are indistinguishable  
or
one becomes the other.  
Becoming.  
If that is what I am doing
how is it different
from what I have been doing my whole life?