She breathed in the fresh November air, milder than the previous year, her boots squelching in the thick mud as she pushed her pumpkin in the pram along the sleeping riverside. Caramel leaves dropped as she strode under a large weather-beaten tree, her pumpkin’s wide blue eyes taking it all in.
‘Can you see the trees, my darling?’ she yawned.
The sun was faint, dew clinging to blades of grass, a quiet hum of birdsong in the air. She should be drinking tea with her pumpkin beside her, cosied up in her big bed still. It was too early, even for them, to be up. But as she opened her bedroom window earlier that morning, the chilly hand of nature beckoned her out, and she knew a walk would be easier than staying inside, just waiting for the news.
‘Look at the birds, darling.’ She smiled as they swooped in the cool blue sky.
Her ringing phone made her jump in the stillness. She glanced around apologetically. Sorry, nature, for my technology disturbing you.
‘Hello?’ her voice shook, and she ignored all that followed, except for the part that mattered. ‘She’s going to be okay?’
‘Everything has healed properly. The scan showed us exactly what we would like to see,’ the neurologist said kindly. ‘We will be keeping an eye on her development just to be safe, but there is no need for her to have any further scans.’
Her mind raced with questions, her heart galloped with relief. She stared with watery eyes at her pumpkin, her phone still clasped to her ear, grasping that little sixteen-week-old hand. ‘So, it’s over?’ she choked on her words. ‘She won’t need the operation?’
‘No.’ She could sense a smile in his voice. ‘Your daughter is perfectly healthy, and I have absolutely no concerns about her.’
She hung up soon after, a smile plastered on her weary face, and picked up her pumpkin, holding her tight and never wanting to let go ever again.