the Mother Runner

“I’m surprised you didn’t pick one up on your way home,” Micah said when I came in from my morning run.“I didn’t bring any money,” I said. “Besides, I’ve already waited this long, what’s a few more hours?”

But I could tell that there had been some anticipation on his part. I hadn’t thought that he would be leaving for work, that maybe he’d like to know before he left. But it was too late now. He was practically on his way out the door, having already made a birthday cake for me before I was even awake. My heart twinged when I realized how thoughtless I’d been, but I knew Micah would never complain or make a big deal about it. A phone call would have to do.

 
“Happy birthday,” he said, and gave me a hug and kiss before he left. “Give me a call when you know what’s up.”Of course I would give him a call. Of course. But for now I needed breakfast, a shower, something fun to do with the boys. It was my birthday and I was going to make it a good one.

By 10:00 the boys and I were out the door in our jackets. It was warm for the end of November, and though we’d just gotten home from a trip to Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving, we wanted to take advantage of the beautiful weather. I packed the camera and a few snacks and we headed for the nearest playground, a couple of blocks away.

But first, we had an errand to run. “Boys, I need to stop in here for a minute.”

I steered them into the store. “What do you need to get?” Manchild asked.

“Oh, just something.”

I scanned the walls of the small store for what I was looking for. No luck. “Can I help you?” the man behind the counter asked.

I told him what I was looking for, and he showed me his supply. I hemmed and hawed, wished I could be more decisive, and in the end paid more than I wanted for more than I needed. But I put it in my bag and tried not to think about it as we walked to the playground.

We played, took pictures, ate our snacks. There was almost no one else at the playground. Aside from being tired (post-Thanksgiving hangover?Woke up too soon for my run) and hungry (I’ve never been very good at packing snacks for myself) it was one of the most perfect days to be outside. I was turning 28, I was at the park with my favorite munchkins, I was inhaling the most purifying fall air that has ever been inhaled.

But the morning ended. The snacks ran out. The munchkins were tired. And the mom couldn’t ignore her own growling stomach any longer. We meandered home. It was naptime when we got there. I put Squish down for his nap as quickly as I could, then realized I could really use a trip to the restroom. Thank heavens.Thank heavens, because I’d spent the past two weeks trying to be ambivalent, trying to ignore the tiredness, the nausea, the lack of appetite, the other obvious signs. I didn’t want to know for sure until after Thanksgiving, until after I could tell my sister-in-law that it was too soon to know without blatantly lying to her, until we were safely home. And I was, in all honesty, a little tired of playing that game. I grabbed my morning purchase from the bottom of the bag, and when I determined that there was indeed a line – however faint it might be – I called Micah.

“Happy birthday to me. We’re going to have a baby.”