cat’s got my brain
I think I finally understand Schrodinger’s cat. In a non-quantum physics sort of way.
We keep wanting to talk about the baby, to plan for the baby, to rearrange our finances for the baby, and so forth.
But there isn’t a baby. There’s something else right now — or, at least, the promise of something else. The growth of something else. A blastocyst. Then an embryo. A fetus. And then…a baby?
The possibility of what it isn’t, though, is the haunting part. I mean, I think we can rule out a hysterical pregnancy. Missus keeps fretting about an ectopic pregnancy, which is scary but also unlikely. Miscarriage is another scary word. So is premature. And so forth.
We are somewhere new, though, because of something new. Some hormones, some symptoms, pee on a stick, otherwise-unexplained nausea. All in orbit around an unnamed thing — or, rather, a thing we can’t name yet. Or can’t bear to name yet. Or can’t bear yet to name and lose…or never have had.
It twists the mind, just like Schrodinger’s cat, though a lot, lot larger than a quark. And getting larger by the day. (Hopefully.)
