Learning to Count

“This is my neighbor, Rebecca,” my neighbor S introduced me the other day. “She has 6 children and one more on the way.”

I flashed what I hoped was a friendly smile to the group of moms at the neighborhood pool as my hand unconsciously found its way to the top of the lump that is my middle.   On the way?  I contemplated again at this socially acceptable description of my daughter.  As her heel thrust up determinedly against the palm of my hand I wondered where exactly she was now?  If she’s not here, where is she? 

What other people see as an obviously pregnant belly moves in ripples and lumps which are unseen to most others.  Inside her safe haven, she stretches, twists, settles in and then begins it all again.  I can feel her sleeping, hiccuping, and startling.  She moves toward he father’s voice and retreats from the two year old’s shrieks.  She is wonderfully and beautifully alive.  But she’s still just “on the way.” 

“Wow. So you’re going to have seven?” One of the moms asked me.

“No.” I answered her.  “I already have seven.  The youngest one just hasn’t been born yet.”

Her face lit up with a smile.  “Good for you,” she said. 

And it was in that moment that I resolved to change the way I count.