He still thinks he’s in his mother’s womb

He stirred, just slightly, and then—without opening his eyes—shifted closer to her hand, pressing into it as if seeking the boundaries he remembered.

That was the moment she understood.

It wasn’t that Youssef thought he was still in the womb.

It was that part of him hadn’t left it yet.

And maybe… it wasn’t supposed to.

Human beings don’t arrive in the world fully formed. We don’t simply cross a threshold and become something entirely new. We carry pieces of where we’ve been—imprints of warmth, rhythm, safety.

For Youssef, that imprint was stronger. More vivid.

It wasn’t a problem to fix.

It was a transition to guide.

Over time, they learned to meet him where he was instead of forcing him into where they thought he should be.

They gave him time.

They gave him closeness.

They gave him the gentle, patient bridge between two worlds.

And slowly—so slowly they almost didn’t notice—it began to fade.