Monday.
went to the chiropractor for the first time.
decided i deserved to imbibe a jamba juice. (bc i was courageous, obviously)
walked in, couldn't decide.
was chatted up by a well-dressed matron (because my round big-ol'-belly says, "TALK TO ME."
she was sitting there patiently waiting for her order, hands on her black purse that was laid on the table. she was wearing a eggplant colored turtleneck with a matching cardigan and a beautiful cross.
i
knew i was supposed to stay and talk to her.
she looked so eager.
got her order before i had even made up my mind.
oatmeal and a berry something.
i got a humongous berry something (not a good choice, whatever i did pick) and a asiago pretzel.
asked if she was staying to eat.
she said yes.
so i sat.
and we talked for 45 minutes.
she told me about her births,
her children,
her first husband (who died),
her worries for her grandchildren.
Books and God and my life
and photography
and this baby coming
and wallace's birth.
and oh, so much about breastfeeding.
she did it when it was unpopular.
we talked about how beautiful it is, so serene and fulfilling.
she told me i was wonderful.
that this baby is lucky to have me as a mom.
that the birth will go well
and that God is proud of me.
who knew
i was the one who needed our conversation? we didn't exchange info other than our first names but i will never ever forget her. like a personal guardian angel sent to buoy me up a little and calm my subconscious about this baby, my life, my work and my place as a daughter. dear lady, whoever and wherever you are, thank you ten-fold.
