Expecting ~ poem

This poem germinated in my head while walking through a wildflower meadow with a pregnant friend:

Laurie leans over the meadow bridge,
sensing new life in the peat-dark depths
of dyke and ditch,
like the soft magnetic pull 
of gravity.
She stoops, crouching, palms outstretched.
She cradles life in both hands now
and feels at rest, 
under the widening sky.
She smiles.  The sky shifts.
She heavy sighs,
looks up, expecting, then turns aside.
But her feet sink deeper into the dark peat
and I hope that she is swelling with joy.