There is a space in the universe where time does not exist in its present form. A place where day and night are interchangeable. Where dawn and dusk become a ballet. This is the place where I first met you.

Photo by Wil Stewart on Unsplash

The dawn came suddenly but in that timeless place the morning light passed us undetected and we remained shrouded in darkness, illuminated by a single overhead light in the hospital room.

Afterwards, a hush falls on florescent hallways. Inside our cocoon we continue living and breathing in that timeless space. There is both joy and fear and decisions made in whispers.

I became the girl with the back tattoo. A black mark of pride. An epidural.

We hurdled through time, ready to make our way back home where our lives took form. I held you radiating pride. A lioness and her cub. My greatest accomplishment. I wanted everyone to see you, your first look at the world.

At home, we lived in that timeless space for a little while longer. There were no days or nights or other marks that mankind has given to time. We lived in waves of space, counting milliliters of donated breast milk and heartbeats.

But there is a penalty for living timelessly.

When we emerged we were hurdled back into time. An entire week must be lived in a single day so as to catch up. Doing so is a trade. A deal made in spaces between dark and light. Between your arrival and the departure of our old life.

Giving birth is as close as we can get to the beginning of the universe.

The beginning of you.

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