Falling

Here's my daily three.

Workout -  45 minute run around my favorite running place followed by 15 minutes of stretching.

Breakfast - Lizzy eats cereal. Will orders an egg burrito. I scramble up an egg, shred some cheese and fry up a piece of bacon. I throw it in a tortilla, roll it up, and Will burps his thanks. I eat a bowl of oatmeal with apples, walnuts, raisins and maple syrup. I am hoping to ward of the hormone munchies but they hit anyway. Potato chips are the only thing that can quiet them.

Supper - we're trying Pioneer Woman's beef and bean burritos tonight.

That's the framework of today.

On my run this morning I opted out of music. I wanted to hear the rhythm of my feet and have a chance to listen to what I needed to hear.

Today is Kelli's birthday and as I run, I remember. I remember being told it was a girl. I remember how pink and round she was. I remember how she looked after they cleaned her and swaddled her up, topping her off with an orange knitted hat complete with a green ball on top - a newborn pumpkin.

I run and look for the gratitude, to name His gifts for today.
A string of geese flying across the crisp morning sky.
The water looking like glass with the reflecting the rising sun.
A hidden duck singing a noisy song.

Was it the duck that diverted my attention? Was I looking for the duck instead of looking out for bumps in the road?  Before I knew it I was heading toward the pavement. I felt my foot snag on the bump, I looked to my left and saw my hand outstretched, reaching to brace myself. I hit the pavement, looked around, saw no one watching, got back up and kept walking. I gave my head a  shake. I felt the quiver in my legs and noticed my quick breathing. I was a little shook up.

Falling. An all too familiar feeling. Helpless. Hopeful that the pain will be bearable. Waiting.

I remember when I got the news that Kelli was on the way. A baby? Now? No. Not now. I had plans. What about the adventure, the great job, the travel? What? No. Not now.

Perhaps I first fell for her one night driving home from an exercise class. I was at a stop sign and she fluttered. I felt her flutter, felt her life inside of me. It was faint, almost indescribable, but she was there. Determined. Present, despite my denial. A beautiful, mysterious, miraculous flutter. I braced myself, with my hands tight on the steering wheel. Falling. It hit hard. I sat at the stop sign for a few minutes, looking left, right, resolving myself to the fact that I had fallen. I was going to be a mother.

Falling.

Falling but not without grace. I suppose I fell right smack dab into grace.

Thank you for our precious girl.

Happy birthday dear girl.

I keep falling for you. Over and over.

I love you.