It occurs to me that contrary to my intentions in maintaining a blog, I've written very little about my baby — this has not been the forum for reflections on motherhood I thought it would be.
It's always bothered me that some new moms dote on their little ones, unable to converse on any other subject. Perhaps I'm trying too hard not to be one of those mothers. Perhaps the point of this blog then is to exercise the other facets of my brain.
I was good at being pregnant. They talk about a pregnant woman's glow — my glow was an uncontainable burst of radiance emanating from a messiah within. Not only did I feel special, I felt that I carried within me a person who would change mankind: more than a salve for my woes, she would cure the world's pain, a panacea. Do all mothers-to-be feel that way?
The feeling has faded a little, but it's still there. That she is destined for greatness. That she is a good person. That she will make the world a better place.
Helena Beata Kratynski-Fournier.
I named her Helena after my grandmother (but don't tell my mother that). Let it suffice that it's classical and full of strength. Light.
Beata because we are blessed to receive her. Inspired by Amin Maalouf's First Century After Beatrice. Because the times we live in need a Beatrice.
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