It was a chilly wet day in October. I was walking home from the store burdened by my plastic grocery bags. I thought, at least the rain has stopped, as I ventured on my shortcut between two old houses, one looking as if it would fall apart the next time a slight breeze passed this way. Luckily it had been abandoned long ago, so it seemed like it would have little effect if any on the town. Probably wouldn't even rate an article in the Daily Beat, our small town's pathetic excuse for a newspaper.
Endeavoring on before the break in the rain would end, I raced up the next street and planned on crossing Hadley Field, but when I came to it, I decided it would be better to finish the home stretch with buckets of water dumping down on me, then risk the puddle and mud speckled field. I should have known better then to expect the route being clear. After all it had been storming for days. And Hadley Field had on more then one occasion left me needing to be hosed down before I even considered entering the house I called home, with not even a speck of dirt or dust to be found inside.
My husband, Ben, had it in for dirt. Maybe it was because of the uncleanliness of the environment he grew up in. His father moved them around from basement to basement of friend's homes. One time they even lived under a bridge for a month! His hands were stained by the filth in which he lived, and as a child he swore he would provide better for his own family someday. And that he did. Ben often missed dinner due to the late shifts he would work at the factory where he had been employed since he was 17 years old. Over the past 10 years he had worked up to a manager position of sorts, but along with it came the need to work extra hours, likely finishing up his daily tower of paperwork. I didn't mind, while I loved my husband dearly, I enjoyed the quiet time to myself also.
I often would just sit and watch the bulge in my belly wiggle from side to side, occasionally bringing a small cringe to my face when I caught a shot in the ribs, mostly though I would just smile. On the small dark table beside the couch, I stashed my baby name list. I had it narrowed down to my top ten first and middle name combinations for each a boy or a girl. We had decided to let the gender be a surprise, though secretly I felt I would cry if it weren't a girl. Though you would think based on my long list of girl names we were undecided heading into this last month of pregnancy, we actually already had a beautiful and most perfect name picked out should we have the opportunity to use it. I still enjoyed the thrill of experimenting with other names, but the number one spot had always been Lilliana Grace. A name our little princess would one day soon share with her mother as well as her grandmother, that is if God chose to answer my desperate plea for a girl as I wished.
Now it's your turn! Lets try to keep it going through 3 to 4 posts, so don't end it right away! I look forward to seeing how others will build and transform Ben, Lilliana, and their little one into a family! Just be sure to link up with one another, I can't wait to see if this works out!