Actually, I wasn't doing the planting. I was walking up and down our street. My water had broken roughly 6 hours before and I was desperate to get contractions going. So it is actually with fondness that I remember watching Josh and his mom work those tomato plants into the dirt from a doubled-over position.
While this mother and child secured green plants stretching up toward the sky, plants whose own fecundity would sustain us for six months to come, I finally felt some real contractions. And instead of remembering the pain, I remember feeling relief and excitement at the thought of meeting my own child who would one day scoop out hollows in rich earth with me to house lives that would produce gems of their own.
This summer, while wearing Zoë close to my heart, I would water the tomatoes and tell her about the day she was born while marking time passed from newborn to baby with the height of a plant.
It's funny too because those tomatoes were basically the only thing that thrived in our garden this year. And here are the last of their offerings:
Who knew that I could love tomatoes for more than just their taste?
2 comments:
Well that's a great story! I have to say that since I had to be induced I am a little bit envious of that moment you had when you first started feeling those contractions. (I mean I had it too kind of, but while already in the hospital). I am determined to have that next time!
Anyway, crying or not, Zoe could be a star for sure!
How sweet! What a great way to remember the day of her birth. Looks like you got some yummy tomatoes!
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