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< > January 2002
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Wed, Jan 2, 2002 11:38 PM
23 weeks B.C.
Something's changed. In me. I am finding myself longing for the day you are born. The apprehension is fading, and the desire to hold you, to have you, is coming at me like a rainstorm across the plain. I think about you often. Small, medium, large - all phases of your future life. Of homework and fast food and all things in between. Come to us, and make us a family.
Hard to mistake Chona for anything but a pregnant lady now. She's round and glowing. Glowing. Oh how I hate using over-used words, but that's what fits here.
All the parents I see look older than me. What's up with that? Bald, conservative, docksider-wearing men with sweater vests and rain slickers. Women who look like they wouldn't know sex if it hit them. I think my perception is miles from my reality. Or is it?
Come hang out with us.
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