It was in a tent that I hoped for you.
In a tent that I was amazed by your presence in my expanding belly.
In a tent I was snuggled with you but wished you would stop kicking me in the head and go back to sleep.
Enjoying a morning campfire.
We all felt a little zombie like.
Last weekend we took you camping with us. Between the hours of midnight and two a.m. when you were playing instead of sleeping (hey, at least you weren't screaming), groggy memories of other times in tents floated in and out of my semi consciousness.
In October of 2008 your papa and I snuck away for a little outdoor weekend. We had been hoping for you for a few months but you were still just a dream. Our last morning of the trip we awoke to sheets of rain pummeling our tent. We weren't in a hurry to pack our wet stuff so we lounged in the tent and read. I was reading The Red Tent, a book your Grammy passed on many, many months earlier (years maybe) that I was just getting around too.
With each page I was drawn deeper into the book as it related so deeply to my current feelings. Wanting a child myself I was fascinated by the joys, pains, losses, struggles and blessings recounted in the story. As I reclined in the tent to the melody of rain and thunder, I completely slipped into each of the characters in awe and terrified of my own uncertain future. On the ride home, I don't think I uttered one word to your papa because I couldn't tear away from the story.
Two weeks later, your story began.
Five months later, I found myself in a tent again with your papa. In the middle of the desert.
You were my constant companion in body and spirit. There wasn't one step on the trail when you didn't occupy most of the space in my mind. My hands frequently rested on the spot I thought you might be sleeping or wiggling. Someday I want to take you to retrace every place we visited on that trip, so you too can be inspired by the beauty.
At night we would settle in together on the ground and I would wait to feel your wiggles as they were still slight at that stage of the pregnancy. I'm certain when I slept that my lips smiled with dreams of you. I frequently thought of The Red Tent and of lying in our tent in the rain hoping for you.
I hope we go camping again soon, and I hope you decide to cancel your midnight party.