It’s still really dark out. I had no idea it was 6:30 until Aislyn pranced down the hallway and sat in my chair in the pitch black.
“Whatcha doing, honey?”
“I’m going to sleep in the chair.”
“Why? Did you have an accident in your bed?”
“No, I just want to be out here.”
As for me, I don’t think I fell back asleep on the couch. I think I was daydreaming all this time.
About sponges.
But it’s hard to know for sure. I may have woken myself a couple of times with my own snores.
Yup, I snore sometimes, too. I always have, regardless of my size. But especially while pregnant.
I knew right away that I was pregnant with Aislyn. Everyone doubted me. It’s too early to tell, they said.
But my breasts swelled overnight. I had the veins and everything.
Desmond took a month or two to conceive. Aislyn didn’t even take that long. And I wasn’t young. I was 34, then 38.
That’s why I’m surprised my mother was menopausal when she died. She was my age. My cycles are still completely normal, regular, like clockwork.
I think everyone thinks I’m having hot flashes, and at my age, that would make sense. But that’s not what they are. I’ve always, always been that way.
I must just be naturally very fertile. In the olden days, before birth control, I very probably would’ve had a huge family.
I consider myself incredibly blessed that way. Not everyone is so lucky. It took us no time to conceive, even in my mid-late thirties.
All those Planned Parenthood ladies warned me not to wait until my early 30s like I wanted to, because my fertility would sharply decrease by then.
And maybe they weren’t wrong. Maybe I’m just a super-powered baby-maker
I’m happy with my two, though.
I really wanted Desmond to have a sibling. I have brothers, and I know what a blessing siblings are. Even with all the fighting.
Even with all the worry. I wouldn’t change it.
Paul was my best friend, sometimes my only friend, growing up.
I hope he’s okay. But I don’t think he is.