Talmage has always been an old soul. Sure, it's trapped in a ridiculously bouncy young body but his soul, it's old and it's wise. I've mentioned before (here) that T was the one who gave hope to the idea of extending our family. When at times, one or both of us Wiggy parents thought that maybe we were a two-and-through kind of family, Talmage would start reminding us (completely oblivious of our thoughts, mind you) of the sister who wanted so badly to join us here on earth. "She wants to come!" he'd say. "My sister is ready!" And James and I agreed, our family was not done. But hello people, adding to your family is sometimes easier said than done! And so the reminders kept coming of her wanting to come here and of him wanting to see her and all we could say was, "We're trying buddy, we're trying!"
And then came that wretched miscarriage which brought with it such a long healing process. So long, in fact, that when my body was finally healthy enough to start trying again, it just straight up refused to get pregnant. I can't blame it for resisting, the months spent carrying and releasing that baby were just plain ugly. But my soul was starving for another newborn, and eventually my body assured me it was time. And by assured me, I mean completely and utterly shocked the heck out of me with a little stick in the bathroom that I totally didn't believe until I saw my fertility doctor. So assured is probably too quaint a word. Even after the appointment, I was completely wary and told not a person. Which, if you know me, is not my style. But my soul is still pretty raw from the last couple years it turns out, and I just didn't want anyone getting excited for anything that could potentially break me with grief. It was selfish, but I knew ya'll would understand.
As the weeks wore on and the genetic tests started coming back I found comfort in knowing that my little bun in the oven was as genetically normal as can be. {All we know about the heart right now is that it's on the inside of the body, phew, but we'll have a fetal echo done in a few weeks to learn the rest and I'll fill you in. Stat.} We were 12 weeks along when we told the boys the good news (who in turn got to make the phone calls to our family spreading the happiness!) Ever Knight is two--need I say more?!--but that Talmage, it was as if we'd just spilled the beans on a trip to Disneyland! He was screaming and hooting and jumping and yelling, "YES!!! This is what I've wanted for so, so long!" And when we told him that we didn't know yet if it'd be a boy or a girl he was undeterred, "Oh, I know. It's my sister. It's a girl!"
So a few days later when my doctor called to deliver more good news about normal tests, I shouldn't have been surprised when she told me that the blood test showed that I was carrying a little lady. I was sobbing and feeling so grateful, but mostly I was just thrilled to tell Talmage. His reaction was not as crazy and giddy as mine, because all he had to say was, "Yeah, I knew she was coming!"
I don't want to get all Saturday's Warrior on people, but it's hard for me to believe that wise Mr. T and this little lady aren't already acquainted. He talks about her like they're old friends, and tells me that he's going to hold her for hours and sing her songs and tell her stories until she's fast asleep. Oh, and shall I mention that he's named her Little Cheetah? I told him it sounds like a delightful nickname--and he's thrilled! Just this morning he asked me what I was writing about and I told him it was a post about him and his sister. He got a huge smile on his face and said, "Are you writing about how we love each other so much?" and my heart kind of leaped within my chest because, yes, I think that is what I'm writing about right now. My Mr. T and that little Miss, now they're something special.
And Ever is too of course, although he may never get over not getting "annudah bwuddah!"
