I sit on the veranda with the sun over my shoulder, lazily sitting above the horizon, blanketing the street with its pre-dusk glow. I watch my two boys play with glee on the driveway; first racing their plasma cars, then then their bikes, then their dump trucks. The older of the two, showing off to his brother, attempting to prove that he is better and more capable. The younger brother, with admiration and pride, showing time and again that his skill is rivalled. From my seat in the sun I listen to their laughs, their giggles, their camaraderie, and I am proud to be the mother of such happy and loving boys.
I wonder how their lives will change, if their relationship with each other will differ, or how different their life paths will be if there were no longer only two. My thoughts shift to an awareness of what might be happening inside of me. If I counted right – if that ever so slight temperature increase this morning is real – then there may be the very beginnings of a new life forging its way forward inside my womb. Right now it is impossible to know – there can only be hope that I’ve done my best and tried my hardest to make it happen.
And now I wait.
I enjoy my beautiful boys as they are and I savour this moment that they are my only two children in this world. Two weeks feels like forever to wait for an answer, but it is such a short time when I imagine that it might be the end of just the two of them.