Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
The month I missed my period, though, had been one of the most stressful in my life. It suddenly didn't matter how far Renny and I had gone, how much we had opened up and exposed our wounds so we could let them heal. It didn't matter that we were stable and Renny very rarely, if ever, got into one of his moods. Somehow, faced with impending parenthood, every single little flaw of mine felt amplified, felt insurmountable. And I couldn't help but worry that I would take our little blank slate and instill my own shortcomings on her.
"Mina, look at what we came from," Renny said, leaning down and kissing her little scrunched-up forehead. "And we turned out alright. We are going to be fine."
I didn't want to be fine. I wanted to be able to give her every advantage, every bit of encouragement, every bit of love that neither Renny or I got.
"Here's hoping," I agreed, smiling down at her face as she started wriggling and squirming and opening her mouth to scream.
I hadn't realized then that I had, inadvertently, named our daughter.
Because we knew from that moment that what we had most, along with a love neither of us believed we would find and the best of intentions, was hope.
Hope that we could do better than our parents.
Hope that we had learned from all our mistakes.
Hope that we could break the cycle.
Hope.
"Oh, I forgot," Renny said, climbing off the bed as I situated Hope for feeding. He went over to the windowsill where he had a small overnight bag and pulled out a very small, very familiar, rectangular package.
I knew what it was.
For any big event- birthday, anniversary, Christmas, along with a normal gift, I always had my little rectangle. I also got one anytime he was apologizing for something.
I had the kind of sock collection even a hoarder would look at and tell me I needed to thin it out a little.
But each and every pair represented a moment, a milestone, a time when he was thinking of me and the traditions we had started all those years ago.
So I didn't care that they were 'just' socks.
Every pair was the best present I ever got.
He moved back to the bed, sitting down on the edge and holding the package, ripping the edge for me so I could pull the rest of the paper off with one hand, the other holding Hope to my chest.
I pulled out the plastic holder and found a pair of very pink socks with print all over them: #1 Mom.
I looked up at him and that was about the moment that I finally believed it. I believed I could do it. We could do it.
I reached for him, pulling him down until he was laying beside me on the bed, his arm wrapped over my belly and his hand resting on our daughter.
"See?" he asked, looking over at me. "Aren't you glad I wore you down?" he said, giving me a boyish smile I had gotten so used to, so attached to.
And I was.
I was so incredibly happy that he hadn't given up, no matter how many times I shot him down, no matter how many times I fought my own attraction, no matter how I tried to push him away.
Because if he was any other guy, he wouldn't have hung in there and won me over.
And neither of us would have known what it was like to be truly, unconditionally loved and then make the decision to share that love with a new generation.
"Yeah," I agreed, giving him a smile. "Now all we have to worry about is moving out of the compound. Things are getting a little crazy over there with all the new blood..."