“Here’s your scone, coffee will be coming right up!”
I thanked the barista and sat down at a little table with mom. She’d been helping me out with a ton of wedding stuff. Today, we’d gone over flower arrangements, music playlists and, the most exciting part, the dress. I was pretty sure I’d found the dress, but I wanted to see it one more time before making my final decision.
“So, is Phil already getting nervous for the wedding?” mom asked.
“I think he’s mainly just excited,” I answered. “He doesn’t care much about all the flowers and other frills, but he’s been working on his vows for weeks. It’s so intimidating, I can hardly get any words on paper and he’ll probably write me a Shakespearean love sonnet!”
Mom laughed. “It’ll be fine, honey. You’ll figure out what to say. When you love someone so much, it’s not something words can ever truly capture, anyway.”
I smiled. She was right, of course.
We chatted about wedding stuff for a while, and then about my new job. I’d been working at the lab for about three months now and was really enjoying it. It was a nice challenge and a welcome distraction from more personal stuff I’d been worrying about.
Of course, mom quickly touched on those worries, as well.
“So…” she started carefully, “I don’t want to pry too much… but you guys are still, you know, trying?” She shot a meaningful look at my stomach, which was only a bit swollen because of the cake-testing earlier today. I sighed.
“We are,” I said, sadly. “But so far, nothing…” Mom started to say something, but I quickly interrupted her. “I know, I know. We’ve only been engaged for a few months, we’re still young, these things can take up to a year even if there are no complications, blah blah. I know all that. But I’m still disappointed every time that test comes up negative.”
Mom gave me a compassionate smile. “I understand, baby. When we were trying for Enzo, even one month seemed to feel like a year. But you have to be a little patient. These things happen when the time is right. You can’t force it. And stressing yourself out about it, will only make it harder.”
“You’re right. I just want to be a mom so badly. I don’t think I realized how much I wanted it until we started trying…”
Mom pushed the rest of her scone toward me and I obediently ate it. “You will be, Allie. You will be the best mom in the world. When the time is right for you and Phil, you’ll be amazing parents.”
I smiled, somewhat cheered up.
The rest of the afternoon we spent in the coffeeshop, talking over more wedding details and carefully avoiding the subject of babies.
But in the bathroom that night, while Phil was already sleepily in bed, I couldn’t help but linger in front of the mirror for a while. I turned sideways, trying to imagine myself with a big belly and a baby on my arm. It was what I’d always known I’d wanted, and now that I was in a position where having a child would be a realistic and logical next step, I couldn’t wait for a little bundle of joy.
How wonderful would that be – a miniature version of me and the man I loved more than anything? But somewhere, deep in my stomach, I felt a lingering sense of worry. What if my dream to become a mother wouldn’t come true so easily?