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Those
two little words By Lawrence Mowery
She just laid there crying. My eyes couldn’t focus completely on her face, but I couldn’t miss the tears. “What’s wrong,” I asked. She just sobbed some more. I asked again and received the same answer. Somehow I knew what she wanted to say, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear those two little words that would catapult us into a completely different level of life. “I’m pregnant.” I reacted better than I thought I would. I don’t remember breathing or saying a word. My wife probably got tired of waiting for my reaction, so she got out of bed and headed to the shower. The next thing I know I am behind the wheel of my car heading out of town in my sweats. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet. Call me insane, but I wanted to wait until we completed building our home this summer. There is just something about having your own place to live in before bringing a child into the world. It just gives you a bit more security and confidence. Sure my wife and I talked about coming off birth control, but everyone we talked to said it would take a couple months for her to purge her body of the residual chemicals. Many of my friends had to try for up to a year before conceiving. But it only took my wife and I eleven days. |
Less than two weeks after coming of contraceptives she was with child.
Talk about hitting a home run during your first major league at bat. I figured I could at least get the foundation of the house poured before laying the foundation of my family. Somewhere around Emida I remember taking a deep breath and looking down at the instrument cluster of the vehicle. The gas gauge showed empty and the only thing I could do was laugh. What else could I do? I figured the first thing was to stop in Potlatch for some gas, and head home to my wife via Deary and Clarkia to give me some more time to process the news. About two hours after beginning my journey, I arrived back at the house where we were staying. I found my wife in the kitchen which was noticably cleaner than before I left. Apparently I think better driving and she thinks better while using cleaning solvents. After a few moments of silence I asked a question every responsible husband needs to ask his pregnant wife. “So, whose is it?” We both chuckled a bit at the attempt to break the tension of the moment and I walked over and held my wife. But more importantly, I embraced my unborn child. - Lawrence Mowery is on staff at the Gazette Record and will have plenty to write about in up coming columns.
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woke up with my wife just staring at me.
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