kerouac says

it is easy to imagine you, prospective baby, as a happy secret that is only mine. sitting in a college cafeteria wearing a maternity t-shirt that i don't quite fill out (despite the inexorable largening of these breasts; when will it end?), no one knows about you but me. this is maybe the only time you will be mine alone, before you're a person, before you can do a single thing without me. later i'll be happy to investigate you as your own person--really, i can't wait to meet you--or to share the parenting of you with that guy who helped make you, but right now you're only mine, my happiest secret, and i can barely contain my glee. world, i know something you don't know, and it is the best thing ever.

Labels: chickpea