It occurred to me yesterday that I have not been “alone” in a long time. Body is not my own at this moment. I am carrying Mateo around and is constantly reminding me of it as he strums my ribcage. I sometimes miss being alone. A request few people in my life would think they would hear me utter. I rely on my husband as computer whisperer, organizer, reacher of items on the top shelves, but most importantly for companionship. We wake up together, shower together, eat breakfast together, commute to work together, IM together, eat dinner together, watch shows or work in the same room. I never thought that I would want to be alone, that I want to sever the tie of companionship and just stew in my own thoughts in my own body! I guess I have been missing dancing, moving, making my own decisions without regard for anyone else. It has been 6 months of having something, or rather someone constantly around. Will be another three months until I can be my own self, but how many more months until I can take a deep breath and relax totally? I love that I am pregnant, please don’t misinterpret my words. It is just I miss laying down in bed and not feeling like I am suffocating. I miss feeling sexy or pretty. I miss moving and dancing- even if it only is in my kitchen. I miss being a me outside of a pregnant woman. Everything I do is about the baby. And I just can’t help it. I love him, am curious about him and want the best for him. It is natural that it should be all about him. It is natural to make sacrifices and willingly do so. And  yet I am curious where does he begin and I end? We are sharing a body so it is much harder to draw that distinction. I am constantly holding him, nourishing  him. He is my everyday. I can see how a woman can get lost. They just take so much, and you love so much, that you just give without thought, without care, just because you can.  But every once in awhile, you get a whisper, a calling, a small desire to be yourself. To be a woman, Elena, and know thyself.

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