It’s sad to think that she won’t always be just a few steps away from me, but knowing that we have both found our fairytale ending is enough to bring a tear to my eye.
Greeting Jon at the door, he escorts me outside to his car. He pulls out into the busy street and heads toward the doctors. “So, are you ready to see a picture of your baby?” I ask excitedly.
“You have no idea. How about you? Are you ready?”
Sighing, I put a hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I am too. I still can’t believe we are going to be parents. I guess it won’t truly set in until I’m holding the baby in the hospital. Honestly, I’m most nervous about tonight.”
He waves his hand. “Eh, that’ll be easy. I mean, I didn’t really have a mother growing up, but isn’t it most moms’ dreams to become a grandmother?”
Nodding, I smile and watch as we pull into the parking lot of the ob-gyn’s office. While true, with things not yet mended between my mother and me, I’m not sure how the news will go.
Once we enter the building, the nurse takes us right back to the room, and I lie on the bed, waiting for the doctor to enter.
The nerves set in when Dr. Wentzel walks in, all smiles, and takes her place on the wheeled stool. “Alright, momma, you ready to hear your baby?” she asks, grabbing the gel and having me lift my shirt to reveal my stomach. “Now, the gel may be a little cold.”
She places the goo on my skin and places the wand on my stomach. It doesn’t take long to find the heartbeat, and as I lookat Jon, there is pure joy in his eyes as he looks at the screen. “Is that the baby?” he asks.
On the screen, there is a darkened circle with something the size of a green bean in the center. “Sure is. And everything sounds and looks great. I’ll get these printed and I’ll be right back.”
She leaves the room, and I use the paper towels to clean the gunk off my stomach and sit up. I can’t believe that it’s real. A baby is growing inside of me, and in seven short months, Jon and I will be parents.
Dr. Wentzel returns with the pictures of the ultrasound and sets up my next appointment in a month. With pictures in hand, Jon walks me back to the car as if I’m precious cargo. “Alright, ready to get this over with?” he asks as he starts the engine.
He is referring to dinner at my parents, and I don’t have a clear answer for him.
I am excited to share the news with them, but the last thing I need is their judgment.
Not to mention, I haven’t spoken to my mother in a little over a week.
I even tried to call her last night after getting home, hoping that Dad and Karl making up with me would soften the blow, but she never answered. Was she honestly that mad at me? Could she ever forgive me for lying to them all?
Everyone else has …
Luckily, my father set this entire dinner up when I called him after Mom ignored my call. He invited me, but I’m not sure he told my mom about it.
Jon pulls up to the curb out front, and I stare at the house that once brought me so much joy. Now I just feel dread.
He climbs out and grabs my door, offering a hand to help me stand, and I take it. “Are you ready?” Jon whispers as we stand at the closed front door.
“No, but let’s do this.” Instead of walking inside like normal, I knock, hoping that Dad answers.
“Oh, good,” My father cheers as he opens the door. “Just in time. Dinner is on the table. And we have a special guest tonight.”
Wearing a curious look, I follow him into the house, with Jon following close behind me. My eyes light up as we enter the dining room, and I see my grandmother sitting at the table. I haven’t seen her in a few months since we moved her into her new home.
I run over and hug her tightly. “Grandma! I missed you so much.”
“Hello, dear,” she replies as Jon and I find our seats. To my surprise, my mother sits across from me, smiling. I wasn’t sure what I was going to walk into tonight. If she isn’t upset with me, then why didn’t she answer me last night?
“Mom, this is Jon, Lizzy’s boyfriend,” my mother hollers down the table at Grandma. She nods and waves shakily at Jon before going back to her plate of food.
She has always been a quiet, simple woman. But with age, it’s only intensified. Some of my favorite memories are at her house growing up. Karl would go fishing in their pond with Grandpa before he passed, and I would be inside with her, helping herbake or gather fresh produce from her very large garden she maintained in the side yard.
As I begin to fill my own plate, my mother speaks, catching me off guard. “Lizzy, thanks for coming tonight. I’m glad you were able to see your grandma before we took her back.”
“No problem.” My reply is short as I try to read the situation.
“I’m also sorry for ignoring your call last night,” she continues. “I guess I just didn’t want to apologize over the phone. It didn’t feel right after the way we all acted toward you this past week. It wasn’t fair to write you off like that.”
