The Beautiful Dance

It might sound unbearably cheesy or tacky, or sentimental or whatever, but I will say it anyways. (and I guess there is room for those feelings or sentiments in the mothering experience anyhow..)
I feel like since I became pregnant I’ve been dancing with my daughter. From the very first changes she made to my body, feeling her impacting everything about me, my mood, how my body felt, looked and functioned, introducing that huuuge love… you know… through feeling her actual movement in my belly, negotiating the space, always being present with her…. To carefully figuring out when and how she was going to make her appearance outside the womb through all that wonderful stuff that makes up this beautiful dance. The discovery, how we seem to read each other’s mind and know each other in so many different ways… the tantrums and frustrations, the smiles and laughs.. the squeezes and hugs, the overwhelming love that just makes you gasp in the middle of it all… and I didn’t think I was much of a dancer and now all I do is dance…