You are someone I do not know, yet you remind me of your presence with every flutter, kick, and twist. I do not know you, yet I have shared my entire self with you, from blood to tears to heartbeats. I have helped grow yours. You remind me with your consistent ways that you are still a stranger. No more familiar to me than the elderly man who parks his grocery cart too closely to my car, no more familiar to me than the woman who gasps at the size of you pushing my stomach out. And yet I love you. Your brothers do. And, of course, your father. The days go by and we all say it flies. But that is because we do not know what to make of a stranger who lies deep within, fluttering, kicking, and twisting.