Shall Be Known As Pumpkin

I think it started with my kitchen.

MY KITCHEN WILL NEVER BE CLEAN ENOUGH.

I said in my head as I pulled out stacks of mismatched Tupperware in the cabinet below the messy drawer.

There's goobers everywhere...

And I had to stop and wonder where the hint of despair was coming from in my mental monologue.

This isn't like you, Jane, you can handle goobers. Goobers are part of your game.

(I call myself Jane, in my head. It started mid-teenage years.)

And then the next day I noticed I was feeling inexplicably sea-sick. The tiled kitchen floor was sloshing around and I felt green and pukey.

Oh Jane, you got yourself the flu.

But the sea-sickness never amounted to much, by the way of buckets or toilets, except I fell asleep only moments after I tucked in the children that evening at sun down. The next day, it was the same, and the next. And the next until, you know, suspicions started to mount.

Chup was gone when I decided to take the pregnancy test.

He learned about it on his phone after a day on set acting in front of a green screen.

Four children. FOUR. We never...thought...

Infertility is such a shadow. It sneaks up on you and overwhelms you and tells you things like "you'll never have children" or "you'll never have any more children" and then one day you have three with one on the way in spring and you're forced to admit you listened to the lies of your former nemesis for too long.

When he arrived home Chup had a massive smile on his face.

"You're excited!"

I observed.

"Yes, I am."

He said.

And I remembered the first thought that came to my mind when I read POSITIVE on the pregnancy test earlier that day.

Of all the things I love to do in this world, having babies with Christopher Kendrick is my most favorite of all.

You are a blessed woman, Jane.