Unwed Mother

This week I was thinking about when Max and I were going together, back before Sarah was born, and the things we used to do together. We went to estate sales and book sales. We went to festivals and film festivals and to the movies, often dashing off at the last minute. We went out to eat a lot. We got together with friends, individually and in groups. We had a few parties. We hung out a lot, of course.

Max and I got engaged after dating for a little over two years. It happened after my Dad came to town for a conference and we met up with him for dinner. We weremaking small talk over dinner when my father asked “So what are your intentions toward each other?” It was an awkward and embarrasssing moment and I just glared and changed the subject. In the car on the way home from the restaurant I apologized for my father’s intrusiveness. “That’s okay,” said Max. “I was thinking of asking you to marry me anyway.”

So we got engaged. Max’s mom had a diamond engagement ring from Max’s grandmother that she passed down to me. It was perfect. When I had been engaged for a few weeks, I had a gynecologist’s appointment. The doctor did a test, and to my surprise I was pregnant. I was astounded. But the doctor said that the hormone levels were low and I would miscarry in a few days. I was sad but thrilled that I had actually been able to conceive.

Max said we could try again. I think both of us thought it would take months, possibly years, for another conception, if ever. Sarah was conceived very shortly after we started trying and soon I was in the awkward position of explaining I was engaged and pregnant at Age 41.

We made plans to elope to New Orleans together in September 2005, before I started showing too much, buying airline tickets and making hotel reservations. Yes, New Orleans. September. 2005. Unfortunately Katrina did not cooperate. Our next plan was to have a small courthouse wedding in Philadelphia in October or November. But Max’s mother Jeannette suddenly fell ill and died in November 2005, and nobody felt much like celebrating or planning anything.

Finally in January 2006 we decided that Jeannette would have wanted us to get married before Sarah arrived, and when I was 32 weeks pregnant we got married at a small inn outside Philadelphia with our families present. I wore a nice warm dark red velvet dress. Sarah was very much a part of things.

Sarah loved to look at our album of wedding photos. I remember looking at it with her once, when she was pretty small, and explaining to her that she was there in my tummy before she was born. She was still talking sometimes back then. “In there?” she said, looking at my abdomen, very surprised. But pleased.