Week 30:       October 10 - October 16, 1991

   
 

We've read that when the sun is shining on your mother's stomach you can sense the light. Other than that, I guess that it's dark all the time where you are. I never really thought about that - that you're growing up in the dark. Until this week. This week we had a blackout and were in the dark for almost three hours. I guess that there's less furniture to bump into where you are, but still, perhaps it gave me a bit of a feel for what it's like where you are.

And oh, you were at a concert this week - and you were very well behaved. You let your mother listen to the music without having you dancing around to it all the time. To tell the truth, we're not really sure whether your behavior when music is playing means you like music or not. Since we want to believe that you like music, we interpret the fact that you're usually not moving around while it's playing to mean that it has a calming influence on you. On the other hand, perhaps we're not correct in thinking that you're not kicking because you have no complaint - making you don't want to dance to the music we're exposing you to. Actually, a Mahler symphony might just be a bit of a traumatic experience, what with so many sounds cascading around you. Not that you're actually hearing them, but they're certainly creating a great deal of reverberations for you in there. It must be quite an experience.

The books again. They tell us that you're probably very aware of the Braxton Hicks contractions, even when your mother isn't. I can imagine that you would be. If I were in a small spot that all of a sudden got even a bit smaller, I definitely think I'd be aware of that - and I'm not too sure that I'd like it very much.


 






An extended black-out this week gave us a bit of a feel for what it must be like for you, always in the dark.