“I know, Griffin, it’s okay,” I say reassuringly, mustering a small smile. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. Thirty used to feel old to me, too.”
Until it didn’t.
“But not so old that we can’t keep up with our perfect, precious little girl,” Ellie says, breaking the tension and resuming baby talk directed right at my uterus.
“Boy or girl doesn't matter to me,” I say simply. “As long as Little One is healthy and happy.”
Ellie and Griffin launch into a back-and-forth about boy versus girl, and I lean back, the unexpected wave of grief receding slowly. Some days it’s ever-present and all-consuming. But days like today, when I have something else to focus on, it can hit me out of nowhere, like a rogue wave.
Jack catches my eye, brow furrowed in concern.I’m okay,I mouth at him silently. He nods once, still looking tense, but letting out the breath he was holding.
You are so loved already, Little One,I say silently to myself, gazing at the spot where I’ve folded my hands over my lower stomach.Listen to the way Uncle Griffin and Auntie Ellie are bickering over you.
Without warning, the front door slams open, shaking the window panes and echoing through the house.
“WHERE IS SHE?” David roars, barrelling down the stairs into the basement. He stumbles on the last step, sending himselfcatapulting into the back of the couch. He leaps to his feet as though nothing has happened and points at me accusingly.
“YOU!”
“Me?” I say, pointing to myself and raising my eyebrows. “What have I done this time?”
“You are growing my new best friend, and I can’t miss a single second of that!” He kneels in front of me, grabbing my forearms and staring intently at my midsection. “Do you hear me, fetus? We are going to be best friends. Funcle David is here, don’t you fret.”
“Good Lord,” Ellie says, and Griffin runs a hand wearily down his face. Jack sits slowly down on the chair he had half-risen from, eyes locked on me and looking a little pale.
David sure knows how to make an entrance.
“Well, I guess that would make sense,” Griffin sighs. “Since you’ll have the same maturity level. At least until he turns five.”
“Shewill be more mature than him straight out of the womb,”Ellie corrects.
“Whatever, dude,” David says, eyes still fixed as if he can see straight through to Little One. “Don’t listen to them, fetus. You and I are going to have so much fun together. We’ll be partners in crime.”
“Please don’t corrupt my child before they’ve even left the womb,” I laugh. “Let Little One be sweet for at least a little while.”
“Whatever you say, mama,” David says, grinning mischievously. “Whatever you say.”
***
My next stop was much more emotional. Dad immediately started sobbing, monologuing at length about how proud he is of me and how excited he is to be a grandpa.
“If you thought I spoiled you, just you wait until my grandchild gets here,” he said, beaming even through his tears. “Ol’ Pop Pop is going to give you the world.”
“Is that what we’re landing on?”
He looked at me aghast, as if any other suggestion would be ludicrous.
Pop Pop it is.
“But how areyoudoing, Red?”
The nickname I’ve had since childhood triggers a strange feeling–what kind of things will I call Little One? What would Aaron have called them? How many other things are going to slap me in the face when I realize he’ll miss out on them?
“I’m okay.” I’m unable to keep the emotion at bay as my voice cracks, tears immediately welling as they’re wont to do lately. “I just…Daddy, I never wanted to do this on my own.”
His face drops, sorrow filling his eyes in a way I haven’t seen since the aftermath of my stepmom walking out. When she abandoned my dad and baby brother in the same way mom had abandoned me, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t bring a child into this world unless I was absolutely, unequivocally sure that I was doing it with a partner that wouldn’t leave me.
I didn’t consider that there’s more than one way to be left.
