There were six kittens inside me. I birthed four and we swaddled them in little baby blankets, nestled them side by side in the fruit basket. Mother said to rest on the sofa. I watched the other two kittens squirming inside me. I could feel them romping inside, sometimes pressing on my bladder. I asked Jane to sketch the shapes of them in her book. Their little cat bodies moving just under my skin. Their spines, each delicate notch, rising and falling. Their paws flexing out, then disappearing. Fast. Their bodies moving from one side of my abdomen to the other. As if they were playfully chasing each other inside my darkness.