Incubation

We have 32 chicken eggs in the incubator.  HubsJ and I are literally checking it in all of our free minutes, clucking like mother hens becoming a really overly-apt metaphor.  This is the time when it is easy.  The egg in my belly is just as easy.  Keep the temperature steady, make sure there is water, humidity and healthy nutrients in the air. 
This beginning stage is the time of the flitting thoughts, oh, if i could just do this forever... it would be good. . . keep the baby safe and warm, and easy.... I know how it changes, the worry builds, the predators come... (foxes, foxes)... I also know that divine design has me so uncomfortable by the very end, that I entirely switch desires- to that of removal... extraction, anything to have a hatching.
But now, I am doing the best job I can, and it is easy, this carrying, this nesting,   so easy.

And there are so many things in incubation. You can name it 'rut', on your better days... you can name it perspective on others. boredom? evolution? transformation? waiting? on pause? motherfails, mothertriumphs... all the moments in our day, the frustrations, the gripes, the sparkles, all part of the incubation, the developing life that we keep on having, regardless of whether or not we are conscious of it... it just keeps happening... any perceived lull is an illusion, right? people are dying and being born, struggling with more than we think is fair, not struggling at all, but suffering our judgement for the sins of having it 'easy'?,  (i speak of my own judgemental nature here...maybe you are not that way) Hopefully we make it out of our incubations with the things we love still around us, still there for the loving... but if not, guess what? still alive... still moving, growing, nurtured, changing...

humh.