She had pushed aside Marshall’s latest comps for a shoe ad to make room for her coffee cup and her Bible. Allison turned the pages until she found the verse she was looking for in Philippians. “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. ”
Still keeping one hand on Floyd, Allison raised the other one and began to pray in a soft murmur. Her arm was stretched high overhead, her hand pressing up as if it carried a weight. It was the physical expression of the emotional and spiritual load she had felt since she saw the two crossed lines on the pregnancy test.
“Oh, God, I offer you up the burden I’m carrying, the burden of this pregnancy. I thought when it finally happened I would feel so happy, and I do, but I’m also scared. I know I need to be taking care of myself, and get more sleep, but I can’t stop thinking about this girl Katie. She looks so much like Lindsay at that age.”
Her arm began to ache. Allison let it relax a few inches. “And what if this baby isn’t born healthy? And I keep putting off telling Marshall, even though I don’t know why, and what am I going to do for child care, and how will I manage to breastfeed and work? And what if my work just gets too dangerous?”
In the midst of pouring out her fears and requests, Allison remembered the other half of the verse. Thanksgiving. It took real effort to get the words out. “But thank you, Lord, for this pregnancy, for this baby growing inside me.” As she heard herself murmuring the words, she felt a thrill of wonder and awe. She was pregnant, after all this time.
As of today, she was five weeks along. Allison clung to that number now, even though only last week it had seemed silly when she had learned that they counted from the first day of your last menstrual cycle. She hadn’t had any morning sickness, hadn’t been especially tired, hadn’t had to go to the bathroom more often. The only things that were different were her heightened sense of smell and her sore breasts. Whenever she was alone in her office or in a restroom stall, she would roughly run one hand across them, making sure they were still tender. She had read someplace that if you were going to miscarry, then your breasts would stop hurting first, before the blood began.
Allison realized she had fallen silent, and that both hands were back in her lap. She had given the burden back to God.
Behind the closed bedroom door, the bed creaked, and she heard Marshall roll over and put his feet on the floor. Taking a deep breath, Allison thought of her prayers.
As soon as the door opened, she said, “Marshall. I have something for you.” Ignoring the cat’s cry of protest, she pushed him off her lap and stood up.
“What?” He pushed his black hair out of his half-closed eyes. Marshall wasn’t a morning person.
“I got you an early Christmas present.”
Allison handed him the small package she had wrapped this morning. It felt too light to contain all their dreams.
Marshall shot her a puzzled look. They weren’t the kind of people who stretched out Christmas celebrations. They didn’t even have a tree up yet.
He hefted it experimentally and then tore open the wrapper. Inside was the white plastic pregnancy test. The crossed pink lines were still visible in the window.
Slowly, Marshall’s mouth opened. No words came out. Her heart beating in her ears, Allison watched as comprehension spread up his features. His eyes widened. His eyebrows lifted. Finally, he turned toward her. He had to clear his throat before he could get the words out. “You’re—you’re pregnant?”
Allison nodded.
He caught her wrist and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. His body was still warm from the bedclothes. With his mouth pressed against her hair, Marshall murmured, “We’ve been waiting for so long. I can’t believe it.”
She could feel his heartbeat underneath her ear. Finally, finally, Allison began to feel herself relax. No matter how hard things were, Marshall would always hold her up. He offered her a safe place where she could take off her armor and show the vulnerable woman underneath.
“I love you,” she murmured.
Instead of answering, Marshall kissed the top of her head, a million tiny kisses. His fingers lightly grazed her belly.
“I can’t wait,” he said, and his voice wavered between laughter and tears.
Allison grinned up at him.
LINCOLN HIGH SCHOOL
December 17