I Run These Towns

I was quietly filling a bag with clothes at 1 a.m. hoping not to wake up my husband. The pain wasn't too bad at that point, but I knew I was on borrowed time. Despite my attempts at being quiet my husband walked in and asked what I was doing. I told him I was packing a bag for the hospital, and he sighed knowing that meant I had another obstruction. I told him I wasn't ready to go yet and encouraged him to go back to bed. I went downstairs and got everything I needed and then hastily wrote a thank you note to friends who we'd visited just hours before. I kissed my husband and son goodbye and drove two miles to the hospital. Visiting friends hours before heading to the hospital It was early Sunday morning, but the emergency room waiting room was empty. I did a COVID check-in, had my belongings scanned by security and walked to the desk. Before I could get there I grabbed a sickness bag and immediately began throwing up. The nurse asked me to take my time, and after ten minut

Last year I read something saying we only have 18 summers with our children before they are adults. Seeing those words immediately brought tears to my eyes. At the time my son was four and a half, and we were spending most evenings at the pool and already trying to fit in as much summer fun as possible. Michigan's summers feel so short. Pool time! Checking out the baby rhino at our zoo! I know conceptually that our time with our children is limited. And after waiting six years to have a child I've always felt like each moment is fleeting. I still carry my son when he asks because I can. One day he will be taller than me, and I won't have that luxury. One day, and I'm sure it's sooner than I realize, he won't want to snuggle with mama or I won't be his favorite person in the world. Until that day I want to take advantage of all the small moments I'll miss someday - starting with summer. Hiking while visiting Grandma First time tubin