A pregnant pause | an in utero existential moment

Amidst the mornings when I can afford to sleep in and can’t effectively do so, occasionally appear moments of clarity scattered rather haphazardly among this 9+month daze of confusion, aka “pregnancy brain”…

While I was pondering what bunghole chose to invent stairs, I realized that Steeglette knows no other world outside of its watery haven inside this bloated body. It doesn’t know about weather, cars, faces, or the overly publicized upcoming royal nuptials. But, much like one of my favorite theoretical masterpieces, E.A Abbott’s Flatland (and not too dissimilar from my even-more-favorite Dr. Seuss work, Horton Hears a Who), I know this world is here, awaiting the fine day when Steeglette leaves the saturated haven of my stomach, squeezes through the traumatic portal,  and becomes one among all of us air-breathing mammals.


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