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68 my​raPtor My​mind​hovered​over​my​baby,​like a​raptor,​and​froze​everything​it​saw. I​looked​through​my​own​pregnant​belly’s​raw perimeters​and​found​his​heart​to​strike attentive​until,​helpless​with​the​pound of​still​more​blood,​he​seemed​to​settle​down. It​was​my​loss​to​feel​like​god​alone for​a​new​one​always​listening,​to​reach inside​for​his​ears​to​share​the​flying​speech I​heard​so​constantly.​Within​my​grown silence,​my​sounding,​my​loud​body​where the​baby​turned,​my​mind​learned​not​to​care whether​thoughts​I​felt​he​noticed​with​no​fear were​mine​alone—or​whether​he​could​hear. ...

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