What one year will get ya

Last fall, James and I decided to plant some fruit bearing trees in our yard. Perhaps it was all the time we spent picking peaches and blackberries. Or, perhaps it was our own seed so obviously growing in my womb.

Papa called one afternoon from work and asked if I would like to take a day trip to the mountains. Of course. We headed to Ellijay - enjoying the scenery and each others' company.

When we arrived at the nursery, we discovered acres of trees, plants and bushes - all waiting for the right home to grow and flourish.

Inside the office, another couple asked questions of the receptionist, so the two of us waited outside on the front porch. As you can see, my body at 35 weeks pregnant was so very obviously pregnant.

As the other couple walked outside they congratulated us on our soon-to-be-child.

Inside, the receptionist helped us with our order of peach trees, blueberry bushes and muscadine vines. Then, she told us a tale of her own pregnancy.

I'd become used to hearing other woman speak of their pregnancies, births and children. I didn't mind at all.

We were later directed outside. There, the owner helped us with our order. Before loading our truck full of our purchases, he told us the story of his wife's labor with his second son. He recalled each detail with perfect precision. I would have guessed that his child might be just a few years of age.

And, then, he remarked, "I can't believe he is already driving a car."

On our way home, we made one more stop. Papa has a friend who lives up that way. His kind friend has let him hunt on his land for a few years. We wanted to repay the favor with a peach tree to plant in their yard.

His friend was not home so we met with his wife. She remarked on my pregnant state.

She told me she sensed a calm and peaceful delivery. My aura, she said, was glowing bright.

We both had to agree.

We told her of our struggle to get pregnant. We told her how thrilled we were that my body housed this healthy babe.

She then told us stories of her own children - recalling those moments exactly - her children now full grown.

I wondered how these families could hold all these details in their minds. I knew parenthood must be so spectacular that these memories stayed so close in their thoughts.

And now I understand. I am struggling. I am trying to comprehend how one year of my life has passed so quickly right before my eyes. I feel as if I was just standing in front of that tiny peach tree with that big belly bulging in front of me.

I remember every detail of the day I gave birth to Lane. I've never written it down. I don't feel as if I have to.

I do retell the story often - with friends, with strangers, with James.

Mostly, with other mamas.

I find it comforting - and yet, ironic.

For years, I envied pregnant woman. I would look at strangers, and even those I knew, and long to be them. Pregnancy hurt. Infertility hurt more.

I don't feel that pain any longer. I find joy talking of my pregnancy. I find peace telling my story - all of it.

I love sharing my tale with other mamas. I enjoy hearing them talk of the changes in their bodies; the process of picking the perfect name; the love they feel for a child they have yet to meet.

Unfortunately, I am reminded that pregnancy can be a painful process. I meet woman who want to be mamas - yet they wait and wonder when it will be their turn.

I try to recall those days as well. I try to remember what it felt like to look at a stranger in a store laughing with her babe.

Then, I tell another story. A story of struggle, despair and anger.

At the end, I tell them, there is always a happy ending. You just have to find your way there.

Then, no matter who they are, I offer them a few moments to take a little taste of this babe.

I just can't resist.