Friday, April 30, 2010

The Birthday

I am standing in the kitchen.
It is dark, but there is a night light lit at the bottom of the stairs, on the wall that runs from there to the bathroom, under the window. The glow is small, a soft yellow, just enough to see by.
I am standing in the kitchen, and I am holding the telephone in my hand.
I am wearing blue pajama pants, and they are soaked. I am wearing a soft, almost translucently old cotton top, a yellowed white, with small pink hearts embroidered on it.
I am holding the telephone in my hand, and I walk between the pine table and the refrigerator. The calendar on the fridge catches my eye.
It is the Middlebury College one, with Sabra Fields prints on each page. Tall and thin, open to May. My eye catches the day, the date. Not Monday anymore, but Tuesday. Tuesday the 13th.

A day I hadn't really wanted for my baby's birthday, since 13 is not exactly a lucky number according to legend. But 13 it would be, and I confidently walk up the stairs to the bedroom where my anxiously awaiting Greg lies in our yellow bedroom.

I am holding the telephone in my hand, because I'm waiting for the midwife to call me back.
I'm so excited.
I'm having a baby.

(170 minutes until the world ends)


Hope's Mama said...

Our babies share Tuesday for a birthday. I just wish we weren't both so unlucky, despite how lucky we have been since our firstborn girls left us.
Another haunting encounter of your experience. I second those who say you should write a book.

kris said...

Oh, Carol. I never stop hoping for a different ending. I'm so glad Liam and Fiona both joined Charlotte's 13 club.

The book will come, about this I have no doubt. Clare and Charlie will wait in the corner until the time is right. The story is safe with them.