This weekend was Parke's 31st birthday and we had a few people over to celebrate. As will happen if you are 5 or 55, the girls gathered on the porch to chat while the boys did Lord knows what as far away from us as they could.
As will also happen at this stage of life all of the girls, obviously myself included, recently had babies and that is where most of the conversation went and stayed...pregnancy stories, baby stories etc.
One of the things I found hardest after Rip died was the lack of ability to talk about my pregnancy. It's not that I didn't want to talk about it, but I knew it made people uncomfortable only because of how it ended.
This night was different, I felt comfortable telling stories and I think my friends felt comfortable hearing them...I think pregnancy and childbirth, all the good and bad of both, is such a bonding experience for women, and it's one I've missed out on for a while now.
But I know this time, this much needed time feeling like every other mother there, was made possible because of the baby I am carrying right now. I know that if I had not been pregnant we would have talked about anything other than babies.
And that scares me a little, the what-ifs start to creep back in...its an awful lot of pressure for someone the size of a plum.
But mostly I am thankful...thankful that I have hope that my stories won't end here...hope that when this same group of women is commiserating about their toddlers, I will be able to to join in with stories of my own. And for that, little plum, I want to thank you.