Shortly after I made my way home today, which is an awful long way if you are tired, a desired book delivery hit my doorstep.

Kelly Corrigan's Lift.
I am sucked in by her stories and made it tearfully through the book in two hours. And I have to read it again. And again. Maybe I will never get sick of it, because it is that good.
Slowly after finishing I got the idea or sort of an idea how it is to birth a baby into this world. Not the process itself but all the emotions that come with it. I have seen many births before, due to my job. But I had never a vary idea of how strong emotions will be attached to it. Holding my own baby for the first time in my arms.
Know it's physicality, his face, his sweet body smell only tiny babies can have. Styling the baby's hair into a mohawk. 
I got a glimpse by reading how it will be to love a child. How the love of a mother is woven into her skin and heart. No matter if it is her genetical child. Or an adopted one. All it matters is, that the child is now into it's mother's arms. Loving ones.
I, not even physically knowing this little one inside me, have already so much love for it I can't even explain. Not that I have to, because I bet all mothers who carried a child before me know how it is to love so fiercly you feel afraid something bad will happen. How the exploding of your heart out of love for your child feels like.
With the ability to shed a tear over things with no real concern to me, I also have the feeling of my heart turning into mush. I am afraid I am getting really really tender.
Like a baby cry at work makes want to comfort and craddle that little one in my arms.
But this is probably just part of the love plan, that comes with carrying a child.
Tenderness is a gift. That's what I believe.

As my little one knocks on my belly I am reminded that nothing is safe. I am not safe every single minute and neither is my child. This realization kind of knocks me upside down, facing the sheer horror of not knowing what to do. Because there is not much you can do yourself if something bad happens. It is hard to see that the baby you loved so fiercly inside your body is now hooked up on IV and other stuff, I as a mother-to-be don't even want to imagine.
I think even my job as a nurse will be transformed by this child, maybe for the better or maybe not. 
My hearts breaks for the families who need to admitt their little ones to the hospital. Who come home to an empty crib after a long day at the Childrens intensive care unit.

I wish I could save all children suffering in this world. I just wish, I could.