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From the sun-terrace we laughed at the funny
two-year-old chugging along on a pair of skis . . . and then suddenly, afraid, I wanted to cry —
“I want my baby ...
I want my baby”
The warmth of the sun felt good against my face, and, pushing up the sleeves of my heavy ski sweater to let its rays reach onto my arms, I relaxed back into a deep canvas chair. We were sitting — Philippe (my husband) and I — on the wooden sunterrace of a ski lodge high in the French Alps. All about us we could hear the shouts and laughter of the skiers and if I lifted my head a little I could see them trudging up the snow-covered slopes and gliding down, time after time.
Then a crunching of snow just to the right caught my attention. A funny little two-year-old with a knitted bonnet came chugging by on a pair of baby skis. The pom-pom on the peak of the bonnet kept bouncing provocatively up and down as she went and suddenly I felt I wanted to cry.
Reaching out for Philippe’s hand, I turned towards him and as he felt my grasp he opened one eye sleepily and looked at me. “That . . . that little girl,”
1 said, pointing a finger towards the bouncing pom-pom, “She could have been . . .”
But Philippe wouldn’t let me finish my sentence, patting my hand gently and interrupting with, “It will be. It will be someday. You’ll see. The doctors were quite sure you could have another.”
I tried to smile but my lips were trembling. “But I want my baby ... I want my baby now,” I whispered.
Philippe didn’t answer. There was nothing he could say. He just held my hand, understanding, I think, exactly how I felt as I watched the child chug onwards through the snow, stopping only for a second to call, “Maman ! Maman!’ to a young woman who was standing talking with two other ladies a little further away.
I’d wanted so much to have a little girl or boy just like the one that had passed by. The slopes seemed vacant without my baby, as vacant as I felt. And, as I (Continued on page 104)
by CHRISTINE CARERE
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