Luckily, I was born with the soul of a poet

Today, at work, I was sitting at my desk when I felt some particularly strong kicks. I looked down and I could see movement through my shirt. It happened at semi-regular intervals for a few hours this afternoon. Once my whole belly seemed to jump to the right. I smiled as I imagined my daughter moving around in there. I pushed my hand against my belly and I could feel her pushing back.

Then, I remembered some article I read a few months ago about a study that found fetuses can feel no pain until after 29 weeks and might possibly be in some sedated, coma-like state for the duration of the pregnancy. For a moment, it made me a little sad to try to ponder these findings in conjunction with the wonderment I was feeling about watching my daughter move.

And then I remembered, I was born with the soul of a poet, not a scientist. In fact, I had--for one brief semester--been an undergraduate biology major. Then I switched to English and creative writing because the answers I found there were so much more fulfilling.

So if my daughter is in a coma-like state, I will think of it as one filled with vivid dreams of colors she hasn't  yet seen with her eyes and awe-inspiring landscapes. I will picture her moving around in a world filled with amazement. I will feel her movements in response to the songs I'm playing and the conversations I'm having, and I will joyfully imagine the person she is already becoming. Perhaps she will be born with the soul of a poet as well.