Wild Lupine near Lake Superior, northern Wisconsin

The rain slides down the cold window. It's March 4, 2011--a gray day. I can hear the first birds of spring as I sit in bed feeling the growing baby tossing and turning inside of me. It is truly something to feel life inside. I am eighteen weeks pregnant with our third child, a little boy.

The other night as I lay in bed with my hand against my abdomen, I was certain I felt his tiny fingers uncurl, and it reminded me of how small his little hands and fingers will be when he arrives; how tiny his feet will be, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand.

For the first time since the start of this pregnancy, it felt real--that we are really going to have another baby despite the many losses, the many struggles before now.

I could almost feel his soft head against my chest, his little round rump in my hand as he sleeps against my shoulder. I could almost smell him, his milky baby breath mingled with baby wash. I could feel the warmth. And it made me feel excited, scared, happy, peaceful, hopeful.

New Eyes

"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes,

but in having new eyes."

Marcel Proust