rshort1202

I have a child. This child is a newborn, though I’m not sure who birthed it. It almost seems as though it was not birthed, but rather simply came into existence. It almost seems that I ‘birthed’ it, by no literal means of the word, only that it’s existence came to be only through myself. Regardless of origins, I am holding it, with its small naked body and longer, black hair. There must have been some gestation period though, as I was assuming this child was a girl. But now it is being made known to me that the child is male. As I hold him, my reaction is a quiet yet jubilant “hell yes!” I am warm and content in the satisfaction of having a son. Later, I am apprehensive in the realization that I still have to work full work-weeks and slightly saddened and embarrassed that I still reside at home.