He stirs inside her, in slow turns and knots. His time is coming. It’s almost Easter.
She wills him to be here, wants to meet him, wonders what he will look like and pushes away her doubts.
This is right.
This is meant to be, this little boy amongst the girls.
Her dreams have become nightmares, fitful and sharp, slicing through her confidence and she knows in her heart of hearts that something is very wrong.
He moves again, pressing, urgent, yet sluggish all the same. She counts his movements and he makes the grade…just, so she tells herself not to worry. He is alright; the room left is sparse and he is just getting ready to enter this world.
She lets herself focus once more on her little guy and whether he will look just like the others with those huge blue eyes.
He will bide his time and bring with him chaos and confusion and a new love, so deep, that will cause her, his mother, to hope, when all hope is lost.
