The moment she thought longingly of a baby, she realized, that in her mind, she had become a mother. She knew she was ready. And from thereon she took the first step of her journey towards motherhood. From that very second she had begun to reach out to her baby, who had been waiting forever, to be wanted. Her very own baby, who waited among the stars for her call. Her little person, who was destined for her, way before time even began and written history found its way into records.
I've been waiting a long, long time for her call. Sometimes I thought she'd never call. And then I have been very sad. Sometimes I've been afraid she'd never find me. Sometimes I've thought she'd never want me. But I am her baby and I always will be. Sometimes I thought they'd never be ready for me. They were always so busy, always running, always broke by the 15th of the month. But you see, I am her baby. I was destined for her, it says so right here, in the blueprint of creation. We babies are destined for our mothers. And we only hear the call of our mothers. We only heed the call of our mothers. I was sometimes afraid that she would conceive before she called me. That is just scary, because I could start growing in her in flesh but still be stuck here in spirit. Because if she doesn't call, it means that she isn't ready. And if she isn't ready how could she possibly become a mother. She could hold me in her arms and still not be my mother. Deep inside her heart, she wouldn't be a mother and I'd still be here waiting for her to call me. Waiting for her to want me. Waiting for to make me her own. I could be waiting forever, and it might be when I'm old that she might finally call me. And make me her own. I could be waiting forever before she baptises me with her love, and make me her child. I could be waiting forever before she wants me.
In the sweetness of a winter afternoon, she felt the stirrings of motherhood even before the determined tadpole-shaped squirt had a chance to find her waiting egg. This wasn't about sex. This was something far too sacred. This, she thought guiltily, had nothing to do with him. This was just between her and her dream-child. Her little fledgling. This was about her finding something in her, a part of her that had been there all this while but she had no clue about. This was about her being ready. This was about a destiny in gestation, coming full circle. And here she was, ready and willing. And somewhere in the outreaches of heaven, a little voice said "Mamma, I'm coming."
Dedicated to a dear friend of mine who discovered recently that she was ready for motherhood. I hope this journey is fulling and brings you all the joy and love you deserve.