I considered the room again. My mind unfolded ways to stretch the space within unyielding walls. A shelf there, a shift here, an opening there for the bassinet… and then it hit me, again, like ten thousand bricks, “he isn’t coming.” Faced with the raw presentation of expectations that wouldn’t be met, I fell silent for a moment before my faith rose again. Miracles happen, I don’t have to know how. “Please, please, please, baby, if you can hear me, we want you.”
I prayed my womb was soft enough to hold him. He showed me his face in the feeling that rides on the branches of an evergreen pine. The sun shone on it’s needles. It was early spring, before the new growth and just after the stillness of winter left. It looked to me like a mountain, towering over my hopes and dreams with the power to reassure me and the power to set me straight. The wind allowed the audible whisper of the needles to reach my ears like twinkling rain, “hold on”, said the earth, and I could hear the smile in her tone.
And now he’s one.