So while touring the Louvre, at the base of the Eiffel Tower, and around Versailles, I acted as if everything was still status quo.
And through the Chunnel, and scrambling around London to pick up our rental car, I never uttered a peep.
I acted a part.
I acted as if my life wasn’t changing in a huge way.
Maybe other people are prepared, but I wasn’t.
I wasn’t prepared for my first small taste of what it would feel like to have another’s life in my hands.
My second phone call (vaster-distance this time) was a bit better in that I received some true care or at the least, some comforting advice. And I didn’t mind their matter-of-fact tone at all.
“This happens quite often in early pregnancy. But you need to stay in bed a few days, and take it easy. You need to keep your feet up, and don’t lift anything heavy.”
Like a dash of cold water had been thrown in my face, my thinking was clarified. This was scary but in a good way. Scary because there was the possibility I might lose this baby, but good because I knew that I did want to be a mom no matter how overwhelming the responsibility seemed.
So I parked myself in bed with a book and wrote in my journal for Craig.
Honey, I miss you more than I can say. I cannot wait to see you, tell you all about the trip and (insert mildly private comment here.). You are such a good husband, and I know you will make a great father. In fact, it makes the thought of parenting so much more comforting to know you will be there with me.
But what would I tell my cousin about my sudden need for rest?
I was rather shy about it, so I let my mother tell him; I’m not sure what she said exactly, but I was not asked any questions that might embarrass me (Thank you, Mom!).
Not that my cousin would be insensitive, anyway.
Honestly, I can’t remember if the three of us talked about the baby or not, but whatever the case, I was able to take it easy for the next few days.
Steve, however, didn’t have to tell me that he cared about our situation. He’s such a gentleman that he just did things without any prompting. Of course, Steven has always had a servant’s heart.
He still does.
Anyway, after he and mom came back from that first day without me, he had purchased me a couple of Staffordshire dogs. Something I have always wanted (Isn’t taste unaccountable?) but something I might not have been able to afford on this trip. Yep, he knew it and he bought them for me.
And he carried my suitcases whenever we moved to a new location, and he made the trip as stress-free as possible because he took on 99.9% of the driving. He’s the kind of guy who just sees a need, and if he’s able, he steps in.
That’s the kind of guy he is.
Dear Steve,
Thank you for treating me as you normally would…because I needed that. After all, my personality was not submerged because I was soon to become a parent.
Thank you for buying me those ugly dogs…I still love them. In fact, they sit on my mantel even as I type this.
Thank you for carrying around my heavy luggage without complaint, and driving us around the upside-down and backward roads of Great Britain without incident.
Thank you for giving me a real hug every time you see me. When people hug me like that, it causes something in me to forget the scary stuff for just a moment.
Thank you for being silly with me…and mom, too (She loves being goofy.).
Thank you for being my friend.
Your crazy cousin,
Laura
Epilogue:
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump…
“You told me it would be fast.”
“That’s how a normal baby heartbeat sounds.”
“Cool. I love it.”
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