baby in my tummy

i'm wiping out the inside of the refrigerator while cruz supervises from his high chair. "mommy's cleaning," he tells me. "mommy uses a cloth." i note the surprise in his voice. his usual narrations of my day typically sound more like, "mommy's drinking juice" or "mommy's changing cruz's diaper" or "mommy missed the ball." thanks on that last one, by the way. anyhow, "mommy's cleaning," is not uttered quite so often.

"when i have a baby in my tummy i want to clean all the time," i tell him. "when you were in my tummy, i liked to clean a lot too."

i have been telling him this often. your sister is in my tummy now, and you used to be in my tummy too. i can barely wrap my mind around the baby-in-my-tummy concept, but cruz has accepted it without any questions. of course, he's pretty young. he doesn't see a difference between the lions in his bed and those at the zoo, and he is just ever so sweetly catching on to the idea of "'tending," but abstract thought is not in your average two-year old's wheelhouse. he pats my belly, gives it the occasional kiss. "where's your baby sister?" i ask, and he points at my tummy (or my shoulder. his aim is not always spot on). he's not asking the why questions yet, so this strange idea -- baby in mommy's tummy -- is just another part of life.

for me, sometimes it takes a double look in the mirror or the sight of my belly rolling like waves to remind me that there is a miracle happening in the dark. and growing a baby is such a miracle and maybe that's why it happens in secret. i don't know why we lost our small soul last summer or why my friend lost the twin to her son or why couples we know have tried and tried and tried for a baby. i don't know why some babies are born healthy and others are not. for all the science and ultrasounds and prenatal vitamins and refraining from sushi, baby-growing all boils down to a great act of faith. it is stepping forward with your heart in your hands, ready to be broken and rebuilt for someone you have never met. there is simply a baby in my tummy.