dearest one, tonight you are twenty-one and a half weeks and growing... often when I roll over in bed in the middle of the night you start kicking around, as though you too are finding a new position to rest and dream in. now you have little eyelids and your ears can hear us talking. every day I find myself speaking to you aloud, and lately i've been reading you poetry, lines like
"I walk, I lift up, I lift up my heart, eyes",
"to the trees and the stars and the fish in the tide"
and "what wondrous life in this I lead"