Sitting on the porch swing was one of Cara’s favorite things to do these days. As she took in the rusty fall foliage she was reminded of that September two years ago when the worst had happened. Who would ever have thought that her firstborn would never be placed in her arms and brought into their loving home. It had been an unexpected loss. No one should have to attend the burial of an infant. Least of all his own parents. She got through it all by putting one foot in front of the other until some clarity returned.
Today, over two years later, as she relaxed on the swing she felt the little life inside her pushing against her tummy and wanting out. She smiled as she thought how good it would be to get a hold on this little one.
The time carrying this little package had gone fairly smooth. That is, if you don’t count the days that she lost her breakfast or craved strange foods like watermelon and bread. Then there were the times she just had to have a big bowl of greens. After the first few months, the cravings and her temperamental tummy had settled down and she enjoyed being in the family way.
Tomorrow Cara would meet her new baby. She could hardly contain her excitement. Her instructions were to report to the hospital at 5 am for surgical prep and delivery by cesarean section. Would it be a boy or a girl? Maybe it would be both.