The Conversation

We started talking about having a baby long before we actually got down to the business of having a baby.

It was a crisp fall Sunday afternoon in 2006. We took Betty for a walk in Central Park. We did our normal route to Bethesda Fountain, where we sat in the sunlight and people-watched for awhile.

I’m not really sure how it came up. But all of a sudden, there it was. This new thing between us. This thing that had, until that moment, remained unspoken.

I remember holding hands as we followed the path out of the park and back onto Fifth Avenue, feeling on the brink of something new, something so exhilarating and frightening I couldn’t hold it still in my mind for more than a few seconds at a time. It was as intense as that very first kiss, as amazing as the first time you say, “I love you.” That rollercoaster woosh that begins a new phase of your life.

The sun was bright and we stopped and faced each other, breathless. The light changed, and the traffic whizzed by. I could see my reflection in Spiceboy’s sunglasses.

“Are we really talking about this?” I asked.

“We are!” said Spiceboy.

We squeezed hands and headed toward home.