On A Run (11 page)

Hannah forced her lips into a smile and buried her face into Daniel’s chest while trying to choke back the tears. The fear had returned with a vengeance. Children – the thought panicked her. How could she take care of children, she could barely manage to take care of herself. She knew this is what Daniel wanted; he wanted a family like the one he grew up in. How could she provide him with that? Hannah was desperate to remain calm. She forced the feelings down into the pit of her stomach where a new ache began to grow.

He didn’t understand, of course, when she broke up with him just after Christmas. He listened to her fears but couldn’t persuade her otherwise. He tried joking, he tried pleading, and in the end he became angry. It was Daniel’s anger that was hardest for Hannah to see. It turned into guilt for her and added to the knot in her stomach. But she didn’t think it was fair to hold him to a relationship that wouldn’t work. When she tried to say this to him he exploded into epithets about her insecurities and fears, some which were not particularly nice. It was the first time that she had seen Daniel be nasty, and it hurt. But it also gave her armor to hide behind.

Winter was full on in Breckenridge; the trails were deep in snow and skiers. Hannah had no interactions with any other human being either in person, by phone, or email. She didn’t even contact Sheila for a while. Hannah was tired of trying to ward off Sheila’s comments and questions and suggestions. When Sheila had found out about the break up, she was furious. She tried to talk sense into Hannah, but to no avail. Hannah decided it was easier to just be by herself for a while. She poured herself into revisions on her novel, while remaining in her cabin. She spent hours in front of the computer screen reading and re-reading what she had written. And she began to work on outlines for new projects, characters coming from the recesses of her mind. She had company, safe company, who were predictable and would do as she wrote them to do. She stayed away from romance for a while. Every mention of romance brought a pain to her stomach that caused her to stay in bed. Hannah developed characters to the point of them meeting someone and then went somewhere else with the story line.

At the end of January Sheila called, trying another tactic. She didn’t ask about Daniel, didn’t try to push Hannah. She was genuinely concerned.

“How are you doing?” Sheila asked, tentatively.

“I’m fine, honestly. I’m just really tired lately. I don’t know, it must be the weather.”

It had been a particularly brutal winter even for Colorado. Hannah found it difficult to get out of bed in the morning, and found herself napping in the afternoon, a habit she had never gotten into.

“Mhm
,” Sheila murmured. She hypothesized that Hannah was depressed, but didn’t want to push that subject. “Have you been eating?”

“Yes, mom!
” Hannah snapped, though in reality she wasn’t ever particularly hungry. Most days the thought of food made her queasy, especially in the mornings. She wasn’t losing weight though; she knew this, so she figured she was fine.

“You should get out. I am guessing you have cabin fever. Come stay with us for a while. You can work from here.”

“Thanks, no, I am fine” Hannah insisted, the thought of staying with Sheila’s little family was excruciating to her.

“Alright then, at least email me pretty frequently. I am worried about you Hannah.”

“I am fine, really,” Hannah stated one last time, frustrated that her resolution was faltering. She seemed so irritable lately.

By March, Hannah was still tired, though she had gotten her appetite back. In fact, she found herself eating foods she hadn’t liked since she was a child. She added Twinkies to her grocery delivery list and a gallon of milk versus the half quart she usually ordered for what little she ever used it. And it showed. Hannah had gained weight over the past months, her pants became tight and she feared for the first time in forever that she would have to go buy new clothes.

Sheila drove to Breckenridge in
mid-March, along with Ben, to discuss Hannah’s final draft prior to sending it to the publisher.

“How are you?” She hugged Hannah with one arm, her other one filled with Ben and the biggest diaper bag imaginable.

Hannah took Ben from Sheila and held him tightly. Ben smiled and blew bubbles at Hannah, making her laugh for the first time in ages.

“Careful, he’s gotten fat, don’t hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, well, so have I, so don’t worry.”

“You aren’t fat.”

“Oh yea? I have gained ten pounds since January! I can’t stop eating!”

Sheila was relieved, though she didn’t tell Hannah of course. Hannah had always been thin, and Sheila had worried greatly about her after her breakup with Daniel. Sheila looked at Hannah and realized that she had put on some wei
ght, and it looked good on her.

“Don’t worry, pretty soon all this snow will melt and you will be back to your crazy running and you will go back to being rail thin again.”

“So I
have
gotten fat!” Hannah smiled.

It was good to see Sheila, she had to admit. She sat down with Ben on the couch and bounced him on her knees. He giggled wildly, causing her to continue until her legs became sore.

“Goodness, how do you do this all day long? I am exhausted. To tell you the truth, Sheila, I don’t know if I will start running again, it just seems like I am always so tired.”

Sheila stopped mid way to the kitchen to get some water for Ben’s bottle, and looked back at Hannah, who was making noises into Ben’s round belly. She had never asked what had happened between Hannah and Daniel, though she had her suspicions. Now, looking back at Hannah, her face fuller than Sheila had ever seen it, she was pretty sure she knew what h
ad broken them up.

“Hannah…..” S
he wasn’t sure how to continue.

“Yea?” Hannah didn’t look up from Ben; she was completely entranced by him.

Sheila walked slowly back to the couch and sat next to Hannah, causing Hannah to tear her eyes from the bundle of laughter on her lap.

“Before you and Daniel broke up…” she felt Hannah stiffen but proceeded, “did you two, did you guys make love?”

“Sheila, I don’t want to talk about that!”

Hannah plopped Ben onto Sheila’s lap and got up from the couch. At that moment, it was clear to Sheila, who had known Hannah for a long time.

“Hannah, you’re pregnant,” Sheila simply stated.

Hannah whirled on her, “What are you talking about?”

“You are always tired, you have gained weight, you are irritable, and I am guessing you haven’t had your period in months.”

Hannah felt like she had been punched. She hadn’t thought of her period. She hadn’t thought of anything real since she had last seen Daniel. It was like she had been in a fog and had refused to find her way out of it. She had been working so hard on her writing the past few months that she hadn’t come up for air. But Sheila was right, now that she thought of i
t.

“Oh my God…!
” Hannah sank to the floor.

Sheila laid Ben on the floor next to the couch and bent at Hannah’s side. Ben complained about being left alone, but for the moment he was going to have to deal.

“It’s okay sweetie, it’s going to be okay.” Sheila hugged Hannah to her, feeling the smaller woman shaking. “It’s okay. Call him. From what you have said he will be so happy. Hannah, he loves you. You guys are perfect for each other. He’s a good guy.”

But Hannah quit hearing Sheila after she said to call him.

“How can I just call him up after almost three months and say guess what, I think you’re going to be a father?” Hannah wasn’t sure what look to picture on his face though, whether it would be of joy or anger. She wasn’t sure which look scared her more.

“It seems like he would be thrilled, both with hearing the news and your voice. Come on, I will be right here with you when you do. You have to tell him Hannah, he has the right to know.”

“Maybe I should be sure first. Go to the doctor, get a test.” But she knew it wasn’t necessary. Now that she allowed herself to be aware, it was unmistakable. Sheila’s look confirmed this. “No, I know. I will call him. But I don’t want you here when I do.” This might hurt Sheila, but it was something she needed to do on her own.

“Are you sure? I could just wait in the other room, give you some privacy while you call him.”

Hannah looked at her watch. It was an hour earlier in California, and Daniel would be at work.

“No, I will call him tonight. I promise
,” she added, seeing the look on Sheila’s face.

“Alright. Call me after you do though so I know you are okay. Do you want me to schedule you a doctor’s appointment?”

“Oh God…” Hannah began to cry. She hadn’t cried in months, she hadn’t allowed herself to grieve losing Daniel. She hadn’t allowed herself to feel at all. Now the tears poured out of her. The thought of doctors and hospitals and going outside made her mouth taste sour. She curled up on the floor begging the world to go away. And yet, inside her was something she didn’t want to go away. As much as it scared her, as much as she wasn’t sure she could handle it, this little being inside her actually began to fill her with a sense of purpose. Hannah touched her stomach and made a promise. She promised that, no matter what, she would be strong for this little baby. She promised that she would be as good a parent as her parents were to her. She promised never to let anything hurt the miracle that was growing inside of her.

That night, after Sheila left, Hannah made herself some tea and sat in a rocking chair by the fire. If she thought she had been tired before, she was exhausted now. Sheila had been a saint. She had helped to set up a doctor’s appointment and had promised to come with Hannah to it. She suggested that perhaps Daniel might be there instead, but Hannah didn’t want to hold hope for this. It wasn’t fair to expect anything from him. A quarter of a year had gone by since they had been together. People changed, moved on. Hannah picked up the phone and dialed.

On the third ring the phone was picked up and a small voice greeted her. Hannah recognized Christopher’s voice, though she was surprised to hear it answering Daniel’s phone.

“Hello?” Christopher said.

Hannah didn’t give herself away. “Is Daniel there?” her hands trembled.

“He’s not here. He’s on a date!” Christopher stated this information proudly, as thought it was a big deal.

“Uh, thank you.”

Tears had sprung to Hannah’s eyes. She held the phone tightly in her hand. Typical of a four year old, Christopher said nothing on the other end. “Bye.” Hannah hung up. She knew that Christopher wasn’t likely to tell anyone about the conversation he had just had, she knew that no message would be sent through. Daniel deserved the chance to move on with his life. She didn’t want him to feel obligated to her.

“He is seeing someone else,
” was all that Hannah would say when Sheila called at eight thirty demanding to know how it went. Sheila fumed. She knew that she would get nothing else out of Hannah, and knew that the harder she pushed the more Hannah would close down. She would have to trust that Hannah knew what she was doing.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Hannah let herself into her home after returning from her doctor’s visit, giving a wave as Sheila backed down the driveway. There, perhaps, was a time in her life when she thought she might want a baby, but she had never spent much thought on it, as some girls did. Now, the feeling was surreal. She had been able to see the baby, not yet completely evident from the outside, on ultrasound. The technician had said the baby was about the size of a small strawberry, and Hannah could begin to pick out some features. She could even hear the baby’s heartbeat! The little picture on the screen was fairly active, though Hannah couldn’t yet feel anything moving inside of her. It was real though. She could no longer think that perhaps Sheila had been mistaken.
Hannah was laden with reading materials from nutrition to baby development, and Sheila had even purchased her a book. “The girlfriends’ guide to pregnancy: Or everything your doctor won’t tell you.” The fact that Sheila had just gone through this not long ago was comforting to Hannah. She was scared, she couldn’t deny it. But she was also fiercely protective of the ‘berry’ inside of her. Hannah went directly to her refrigerator and hung the ultrasound picture up on it with a magnet. Then she opened the door and took stock of what was inside. She had milk, a craving of which she had had since nearly just after she…since January, but other than that, there wasn’t much of nutritional value. Hannah began a list, using the pamphlets as a guideline. She went to her computer and began an order from the grocery store, including items she had never had much need for before: fresh fruits and vegetables, meats (of which she did not often bother with), yogurt, and prenatal vitamins. So the grocery boy was about to know that she was pregnant before the father did. The thought brought a pang to Hannah’s stomach which scared Hannah. She didn’t want to cause this baby any pain, and focused on doing what was best for it. Other than the doctor, the grocery boy and Sheila, there was no one else who knew about this pregnancy. There was no one else that Hannah knew. It seemed about right.

At the beginning of May, Hannah hung a new picture on the refrigerator, a picture of her baby girl. The most recent ultrasound had revealed so much to Hannah. Her baby girl had ten perfect little fingers and ten perfect little toes. Her spine was developed and Hannah could see the skeleton of the facial features.

Hannah had begun to think she could feel the baby move, though she was never quite sure. She would lay still for long periods of time waiting for the slightest hint of movement. Then, when she least expected, there would be a small flutter from within. The baby seemed to especially like when Hannah’s laptop was resting on her growing belly. Perhaps she could feel the vibrations from Hannah’s fingers as they raced across the keypad. Hannah had been writing furiously. Not out of need for escape this time, quite the contrary, it was as if she were invigorated by the being inside her and a new story quickly developed into a new kind of novel for Hannah.

As the spring slowly turned to summer, the trails dried out and the wildflowers bloomed. Hannah rose early each morning, donned her shoes, and headed up into the mountains. It was too awkward to run with the extra weight she now carried in front of her, but Hannah bathed in the beauty of the land around her as she walked across her familiar mountainside. Each day Hannah became more productive in her writing and her preparations for the baby’s arrival. She spent much time in the transformed spare room, making it into the perfect baby room.

As the anniversary of the Southern California Authors’ Convention came closer, Hannah became obsessed with cleaning the cabin, as well as baby proofing everything, though she knew she wouldn’t need to do this step until months later. Sleeping became more difficult, so she often was up in the night writing. And each week she seemed to grow bigger.

The Sunday before Labor Day, Hannah and Sheila were having tea at the cabin. Hannah gently rubbed the tight skin of her impossibly stretched stomach, leaning back in the chair to try to relieve some of the tension that she felt in her back.

“I would be okay to have this baby any day” she said to Sheila.

“You and every other pregnant woman in their eighth month.” Sheila laughed. “I was begging my doctor to go ahead and let Ben come early. Sorry, you’re going to have to wait the whole time, like most of us.”

Yet, for all of Hannah’s discomfort, preparations, and words, she wasn’t sure she was ready for this baby to come. After spending so much time around Ben and seeing how much a baby actually needed, thinking about raising the baby on her own seemed less and less a good idea, despite Sheila’s assurance that she wouldn’t be totally alone.

“Oh, you think that you won’t be callin
g me every day, but you will be,” Sheila said, bending over to adjust Ben’s toy over his car seat. “You’ll be calling me to tell me the first time she spits up, or calling crying when she tells you “no” the first time. You’ll call because you’ll want to know if her bathwater is too hot. Then when she is older you’ll be worried about her going out on her first date.”

“She
is never going to go on a date!” Hannah said emphatically.

“Yes she is! I need a date that I can trust for my Ben’s senior prom. They’ll be best of friends and then they’ll get married someday…” Sheila stopped, watching Hannah glance down at her hands. She thought she would try one more time. “Call him, Hannah. He might be excited about it. It isn’t too late.”

“I am sure he would be excited, but I don’t know if I can be with him and take care of a baby.”

“So you do it together, like most people do.”

Hannah’s eyes darted toward the door. What she wouldn’t give to run outside, up into the mountains she so loved. Sheila had made her promise not to walk anywhere but in town now, which, of course, she wouldn’t do. When Hannah protested, Sheila wisely pointed out that if Hannah was out on the trails, she might get too far away to safely make it home when the time came. Ironically, Hannah, an agoraphobic, felt trapped in her own home, a place that had been her haven for so long.

“Well, just think about it.” Sheila left it. She had known Hannah long enough to know what she could and couldn’t push her on. “So, are you ready for the big city life?” Hannah had agreed to stay at Sheila and Steve’s in the city for the last few weeks before the due date. They would go to the baby prep classes at the hospital together and Sheila would be Hannah’s support for when the baby was born.

Hannah looked around the cabin that used to be her parents. It was all ready for the baby’s arrival, even if she wasn’t. She picked up her bag and stood up. “I guess so.”

Madison Elizabeth Glen was born at 12:09 a.m. on September 25
th
, one week before her due date, but almost exactly 9 months after the time she was conceived. She burst into the world after an incredibly short labor, gave out one ferocious cry of protest, and then immediately quieted and seemingly began to contemplate her new life.

Hannah sat under the dimmed lights in her hospital bed holding her tiny daughter, who had been cleaned and bundled and laid in her mother’s arms. Sheila and Steve had visited for a while, and then left to give mother and daughter time to bond together. For the fourth time Hannah unwrapped the baby to count the same ten miniscule fingers and toes she had looked at on the ultrasound picture so often over the past months, and then wrapped her back up again, fearful she would get cold. Hannah inspected every part of the precious package over and over, awed by the perfectness of this being. But she had difficulty every time she looked at the infant’s head. The baby was born with a shock of black hair, olive skin, and almond eyes. She looked exactly like Daniel. Tears threatened to blur Hannah’s vision as she held the bundle firmly, being sure not to have any chance of dropping her. Hannah unwrapped her infant’s hand one more time and held it gently in her own. “Madison Elizabeth Glen
,” Hannah murmured, as if proclaiming the baby’s name solidified that it was hers. Hannah tapped the tiny hand to her baby’s chest. “I am Madison Elizabeth Glen,” Hannah said.  “MEG,” she whispered into the baby’s downy fuzz on top of her head. “My little Meg.” The nickname stuck.

The day Hannah and her baby were released from the hospital, Steve drove them home. Sheila tried to convince them to stay with Steve and her at their condo in Denver, but Hannah wanted to be home again. It had been too long. Ben had come down with a fever so she used this as an excuse to not stay.

Steve drove and Hannah sat in the back next to Meg, who was secured in her car seat. When they got to Breckenridge, Steve carried Hannah’s suitcase inside while she carried her precious bundle. After he brought in the car seat and the myriad of other “baby essentials” that Sheila had bestowed on Hannah for the past month, he paused at the door.

“Would you like me to stay for a while?” Steve looked uncomfortable asking. He knew that Hannah craved her solitude, but Sheila insisted that he offer.

“No, but thank you Steve, for everything. You have done so much for me already. We will be fine.”

After Steve left, Hannah brought Meg into her bedroom and laid her in the middle of the bed. Hannah kicked off her shoes and lay down next to her baby, already asleep. Hannah gently picked up Meg’s tiny hand and felt the complete softness
of it. “I am Madison….,” Hannah whispered, kissed the baby’s forehead, and promptly fell asleep next to her.

To describe Madison as precocious would be like calling the ocean wet. While true, it was not nearly apt enough of a term to sum up all that the child encompassed. She was active as an infant, meeting developmental milestones well ahead of schedule. Madison investigated everything placed in front of her, generally by putting them into her mouth, though, to the thrill of her mother, also holding them up to her face as if looking intently at them. She activated every toy within reach of her hands or feet. Once Madison was old enough to roll over, Hannah began constructing soft barriers on the floor because Madison became a rolling explorer, traveling distances that Hannah didn’t think possible.

Hannah worked well in between playing with her infant; often typing with one hand while tickling Madison’s belly and listening to the laugh of her growing baby girl. Hannah was content with her writing, finding creativity flowing through her again, her newest novel taking on a depth that perhaps her last had missed.

As Madison grew older, her hair changed from the blue black that had covered her head at birth, to a dark auburn shade more like her mother’s. Meg’s first word was not a word at all, but a sentence. She babbled consistently throughout the first year, but while a baby’s first words are often “mama” or “baba”, Madison’s first intelligible utterance was “I am Madison” .Hannah nearly dropped the cup of coffee she was drinking when she heard her say it. She thought she must have imagined it. It was the game she had continued to play with Meg since her first day on this earth, taking her tiny hands and tapping them to her tiny chest and chanting “I am Madison.” But Hannah never expected to hear the words come out of the adorable pink mouth that laughed every time she played the game. Hannah climbed down from her chair and sat in front of her little daughter, taking Madison’s hands in her own and tapping them to her little chest. “I am Madison,” Hannah chanted.

“I am Madison
!” Meg returned and then busted into an uproarious belly laugh that was contagious to her mother.

She didn’t stop th
ere, and by the age of fourteen months had a verbal repertoire that amazed her Auntie Sheila and Uncle Steve to no end.

“Ben is already two and he is barely put
ting two words phrases together!” Sheila complained one day while they were visiting in Hannah’s kitchen, putting the final touches on the Thanksgiving dinner.

Last year Hannah had gone to their condo in Denver, where they had eaten a catered meal. But Hannah wanted Madison to have an old fashioned holiday, though she would probably eat only the mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie. Hannah looked around at her intimate family setting and was happy. Madison was a delight that never ended and a constant source of joy for Hannah.

When Madison turned two, she became interested in crayons and pencils and everything make believe. Hannah and she spent most of their time together in the cabin, though they had spent many days in the spring and summer months exploring the woods in the mountains. Hannah had a backpack that carried Madison while she was a baby, but the little bundle of energy quickly tired of being above the ground, preferring instead to be on her own two feet as soon as she could, so that she could investigate every bit of the landscape. Often their outings would take them no further than one hundred yards from their back door. Running was a thing of the past for Hannah, but she didn’t mind. The calmness that that activity had brought her was replaced with spending hours building tiny homes for the insects that Madison found and cared for.

Back at home, Madison would draw picture after picture of what she had discovered that day, describing in detail what she had drawn. Her imagination grew immeasurably, and by the time she was nearly three, she began to make up stories about characters she imagined in the woods. The insect houses became gnome homes, and their adventures took them further from the door of the cabin. After so long close to home, it made Hannah nervous to go too far away from it with Madison.