9months of Ivy. My sweet wildling, you have forever changed every definition of the word “grow” that I thought I knew. For 9 months I carried you, and today marks 9 months of my being carried through a gorgeous labyrinth. You are this constant evidence of the fluidity of everything and the singular urgence of love. Witnessing you engage this old world tears the scales from my eyes. You have shaped my body into something as new as you. 9 months after those 9 months of us transforming together and I run my hands over this new shape, this tangible reminder of what I have become for and in light of you. I see “mother” in the new silhouette of my shadow and the woman looking back at me in a mirror. The stretched skin along the sides of my hips is as delicate as lace but urgent as a scar from a noble struggle. I wake up beside you at all hours to assure you that your titan is still here, ready and compelled to your care. You scratch my face, explore my limits of exhaustion, command my constant vigilance and in every moment of respite I revel in this newfound fullness. Watching you take in the world, teaching you, hours of play, laying next to your uninhabited, outstretched self as you sleep… My boobs, my pelvic floor, my hips, the limits of my loyalty previously miscalculated, my rest, my capacity for love and the things I would do to protect it… 9 months plus 9 months and you have changed it all. This is how I see the depth of the word “grow” now. It is the change that you are, and my heart is full.