Noticed today that Aaron's mark of love and troth rounds my finger even when the gold hasn't been there for a week. I kinda dig that.
I haven't been wearing my wedding ring because between the dry winter air and my amazingly frequent trips to the bathroom my hands reach for lotion almost of their own volition. Maybe that's another way love is making its mark on me.
Pregnant people pee a lot. For me it's up to 3-4 times an hour or absolutely any time I stand up, whichever comes first. Like the marriage signified by that band about my finger, the thing that does not go away even when the gold is gone, this process of creating new life challenges my notions of control and self...hood? Sufficiency? Self at all?
Marriage asks me to bend and try, go and stay--to do wild things and tame things outside my own perspective, ingenuity, initiation, and will. In responding I find that I am caught up in something bigger than myself where any notion of "control" is truly absurd. It just doesn't fit.
Pregnancy is like that, except it doesn't even ask first--though it doesn't compel, either.
It just happens…