Borrowing on Next Week

Because I woke up with burning in unspeakable places accompanied with cramping and fever, I found myself at the doctor's office this afternoon. The plan was to get in, pee in a cup, stop by for meds, and be home by the time Micah got home from school. But in the event that I would be delayed (one can never count on doctor's offices to be as prompt as all that) Becky was waiting at home for the boy to get off the van.

(Oh, sorry about that TMI right out of the gate. Maybe this should have come with a warning.)

And because nothing is ever what you think it is, I was delayed. Immensely. The good news is that I'm not pregnant, just in case you thought that might be an option. Which it's not. And apparently isn't. The bad news is that I wasn't home when Micah got off the van.

I got a phone call as I was checking out because my cell phone only rings at inopportune times. It's my phone's super power. My phone will not ring for 3 days straight, but the minute I am paying the cashier, or sitting in a public toilet stall somewhere, the phone will ring. Loudly and annoyingly. In fact, just as I got to the doctor's office and was being shown the ins-and-outs of the restroom's pee-in-a-cup routine, the cell rang. It.Is.A.Gift.

It was Becky who called while I was checking out. She said Micah was very distraught because I wasn't home, and when she handed him the phone, he most definitely fit that description. I reassured him that I'd be home soon, and he handed the phone to Becky when we were done talking. She said he calmed very quickly after that, but he was most certainly glad to see me when I got home.

I know this is a direct result of the day I wasn't home when Micah got off the bus. I fear we'll be suffering the repurcussions of that for a loooong time, and my guilt will increase a zillionfold every time Micah remembers it. Next week, however, will prove to be interesting when we go away for a few days. We have a plan to implement, and with his new concept-grasping skill it just may be what keeps him from unraveling. Or I may come home to a boy who is not only scarred for life, but will never trust anyone ever again.

Moms worry a whole lot.