Letters to Poetwig: Secret Company

It used to be, I was alone. Friends whom I've grown close to have left the company where I have been staying for over nine years now. Almost a decade, nine times around the sun. I'd commute to work on my usual route, passing cars of strangers absorbed in their daily routine. I'd sit at a desk and do my work, not really part of a specific team as the company's shared resource. When lunch came, I'd take it to my desk to eat, introvertedly browsing my smartphone as the downstairs communal area was chock-full of coworkers sharing tidbits about their day. I'd take a walk when lunch is done, smelling the seasons in the air, the flowery scent of spring, the green leaves baked in summer sun, the rich scent of autumn with changing colors arrayed as a feast for the eyes, and the empty blandness of winter occasionally awash in rain. In the evenings, after a long day of the work and the office grew quiet, I'd haul my bag to the gym downstairs and start my exercise routine: stretches, treadmill or elliptical, ab crunches on the ball, weights, yoga. I felt isolated in my days, despite meetings and all the work interactions with coworkers, but no one knows me on an intimate level, the brightest part of my day being coming home and seeing my husband and dog.

And then you came along, my growing bean, at first just a concept, and then a group of cells quickly multiplying to become a being inside me with his own personality, progressing day by day. I'd talk to you in my anxiety, telling you to keep growing strong. I'd sing to you during my commutes to and from work to the Oldies I recorded on a USB stick for you, so that you would get to know the sound of my voice. If I worked past lunchtime, you'd nudge me gently, and then started kicking me forcefully, if I didn't feed you on time. On our walks, I'd whisper to you to tell you about all the sights surrounding you: the woman with her two dogs, the garden of hyacinths and jasmine, the water fountain, the beautiful blue sky. I'd go to the gym knowing I'm not just keeping myself healthy but you as well, and I push for my full half-hour workout. We'd snack together, and you'd stir in my belly, keeping secret company, and I don't feel so alone anymore.

We are linked by a simple umbilical cord, but my ineffable love for you runs deep. One day, we will be separate entities. You'll be on your own way, and I won't always know where you are or what you're doing at the moment. You won't be nudging me from inside, reminding me to snack and eat. They say you feel the phantom kicks of your little one long after they're born, so in tune with your body as a mother. I'll never forget the secret company I kept with you, my little one. Thank you for growing in me, for letting me know that, even when I am feeling my loneliest, I am never truly alone.