It's been two months since the talk, and I'm still pathetically hopeful.
I mean, hey - everyone says a woman is always a mother, a man is a father once he sees his child. Maybe...maybe he just needs to see her.

I took a deep breath for both of us.
The whole school knew by now, and all of my friends were still deciding. Still deciding if they should stay, or run, or just drop off a gift at my baby shower and then pretend like they don't know me the next day. It's a very subtle thing they're doing; trying to be supportive but also slowly giving me more 'space' until they finally stop visiting altogether.
I don't blame them, I wouldn't want to associate with me either.
I'd been taking a walk through the city's park, which is always empty on a Thursday. I stopped to take a rest at one of the benches closest to the water, holding my little girl from the outside of my belly.
I closed my eyes and just let my mind float between my thoughts, slipping around the corners of my ideas, weaving in and out of them.

Ezra. Ezra...something.

I've always adored that name. In Hebrew it means "help", and I always thought that was so fitting for a newborn - especially an unexpected one. Most new parents are so freaked out by the time that their kid is almost ready to be born that they are just about to kill each other. When their baby arrives, it soothes them into the nurturing mothers and fathers they need to be. The baby helps their relationship.
In my case, however, Ezra's going to be a different kind of help.
God willing, she's going to keep me sane.
Hugging my belly, I got comfortable and started to tell my Ezra a story.

"Once there was a sailor whose lover was The Sea. As soon as he was old enough to work on a boat, he got a job as a laborer. He soon became the captain of his very own ship, which he happily sailed all around the world until he was an old man. Every night he would go to his cabin below the deck and let the beautiful songs of The Sea lull him to sleep, his lover only separated from him by just a few inches of wood and metal. As an old man, one night the sailor became completely despondent. Do you know what that means, baby girl? That means he was so heartsick he couldn't fight any longer. He sat on the deck of his glorious ship, drinking bottle after bottle of wine, toasting to the health of his lover The Sea. Out of his mind with both heartache and liquor, the sailor tied a cannonball around his ankle, and climbed over the railing of his ship. Declaring his love for The Sea, he begged her to let him love her. He explained that he'd never wanted one being so much in his life. Never felt so connected; so connected that the mere inches of distance between them was so painful he couldn't bare it."

Taking a few moments to push the tears back down my throat, I continued.
"The Sea, feeling his pain and realizing her own feelings for him, sent a giant wave towards the sailor's ship, sending the man right into her loving embrace. To this day, if you listen closely enough, you can hear his drunken laughter in the crash of every wave."