Mum Nadla Mum

I guess I’m a little bit of a fraud now, having so little to do with the run. I watch from the comfort of home instead of the confines of Jenny, in the middle of who-knows-where. I can have a shower and watch some benign tv programme whilst checking in on Rob’s progress.

So much has happened since I last blogged and I can’t honestly say why it’s been so long. I suppose the truth is that I didn’t feel I had much to say or certainly couldn’t discuss some of what I wanted to share.

Here I am. The most un motherly and anti-child person, pregnant. I’m so excited though.

I realised something was amiss just a week into my return to the US. Fairly convinced it was possibly nothing to worry about, I shoved a pregnancy test into my shopping basket, a long with some chocolate (obv’s) and other essentials. I kept thinking that I’ll just do this stupid test and then I can at least stop wondering. I had that test hidden for 2 days before I took it, by the time I did, I just knew that I was. The pee and then the plus sign, my heart honestly sank. I was mortified at the thought of having to tell Rob; and every single reason on this planet earth, for it not to be a good idea, hit me like a spade to the face. I had a little cry and worried about money (we have none) our lifestyle (we like to party) and how I just wanted to rescue Lurchers (easier). I then had a word with myself and decided there was very little I could do and that I needed to get on with it. How was I to tell Rob? Straight away and then have him stress whilst running? Leave it for a few days/weeks/months? Never tell him and move to one of those tiny islands off of Scotland? I decided that I would tell him at the end of his running day, so that we then had time before dinner, to talk about it. It was only fair, to be honest straight away and well, he did play a part in all this mess after all.

We had arranged our final stop in a large graveled area, just off a fairly busy road but a good, safe place to park up for the evening with a lovely view. It had been one of the hottest days we’d been experiencing but it was starting to cool down and have that lovely, orange afternoon glow to everything. I had his protein shake made and ready to hand to him along with the most heavily burdened news I could share. He opened the door, all smiles of course and I blurted out “I have something I don’t want to tell you and you probably don’t want to hear” he immediately replied “pregnant?” and I sighed a heavy “yes” He then grinned an even bigger smile and gave me a beautiful (sweaty beardy) reassuring kiss. “That’s alright” he said.

It is alright. We could never plan for a baby because we’d never have time for one, so this was really the only way it could happen and as much as I honestly feel I’ll not be a standard mum, I will be a damn cool one. Rob and I have no idea how this will actually change our lives but one thing I know for sure, is that it still won’t be a particularly conventional one and that is fine by me.

I miss him terribly now. I see how he struggles through some pretty harsh weather. Jenny is still out of action, with no certainty as to what the outcome will be, post accident. He’s sad that I won’t be able to make it to see him (all being well) finish this epic journey, that I’ve had such an big involvement in. He’s sad that he’s not with me and the little wriggler as she grows and missing scans. I often wish it to all be over so that we can both be preparing our home together and so that I can have a cuddle and see his amazing smiling face when I need it. More than all of that though, I’m so desperate for him to reach the end. I’m so excited at the thought of him having that amazing feeling of accomplishment at having achieved something so big, that no one else has ever done; when he finally takes that last step of those 15,300 odd miles, knowing that he did every single step of those miles, through every element and terrain.

Knowing, he never gave up on his dream. What a beautiful thing to teach his daughter.