6/1/19
I’ve started a new page for this journal entry. So here it is. Something has happened. I apologize for not writing you in god knows when, but I have a secret. An alarming, implausible secret. I’m pregnant. And I know how, how crazy that sounds, but I have the stomach to prove it. I have Mrs. Stanes to prove it (she shares this secret with me and you). It happened two months ago. I was sleeping outside with my bare hands planted on my belly, under the stunning clear of the night sky. I remembered just wanting, wanting more than I ever had before. I wanted with every fiber of my being. Something happened and someone, something, gave me what I wanted. Pushing my belly until it swelled, stretching beautifully painful. Growing, building. I sobbed hugging into myself so close I thought I was going to in fold into my very being. I swore to devote my life and everything to this one being. Sleep came immediately, making me believe I was dreaming. When I woke in the warmth of my bed, I cried. How dare god trick me, play that cruel joke on me! But when I went to feel. God, I fell to my knees and wept prayer. The stomach was there, my baby still there. I ran to Mrs. Stanes with my lungs scorching and my feet bleeding, and without knocking, I barged into her house. She greeted me with a glass pan of cobbler and when she looked downward, she dropped it causing little glass shards and cobbler to scatter across her floor. She cried out in tongues, a language I didn’t know. I asked her if she could see it—my stomach. She placed her hands over my tummy.