Lasting Laughter

When I was pregnant, I slept on the couch quite a lot, as it was the only place I could truly get comfortable (and pull my giant-bellied self up on the back of the couch each morning!). One night, I was lying on the couch in the wee hours and could've sworn I'd heard a child giggling. This actually happened twice during my pregnancy. It wasn't a sound outside myself. Rather, it was as if I'd heard it in my heart. I don't typically believe in mystical happenings (although I tend to believe more as I learn from my son), and have long considered myself mostly practical. I fully realize my mind could well have been playing tricks on me at that late hour, but the sound was as clear as anything I'd ever heard, and I strongly remember a lovely feeling of having connected with my unborn son's spirit that night.

I often talked to my son before he was born, reciting the list of people who loved the baby, and on the day he was born, I said these same names to him and he looked right at me. Why shouldn't it work the other way around, strict biology aside? ;^) My son's dad, who does believe in mystical occurrences (ghosts, ESP, magical intuition [instead of intuition based on perception of subtle cues]), totally discounts my interpretation of events. Perhaps he was envious, or trying to retaliate against past perceived slights, such as the time I'd said perhaps his niece had guessed I was pregnant, not because she was psychic, but because I wasn't drinking at dinner that night and my son's dad and I were exchanging meaningful looks at the table. Maybe it was a little of both; maybe it's a mother thing. Regardless, I will always fondly remember the sound of giggles that autumn night; I am reminded daily, as my son's laughter sounds the same today.