Gasp! I know what you’re thinking, how can a guy propose, not be down on bending knee with a chorus of violins playing the background, and rose petals beneath your feet? And how can one accept such a proposal?
Well, the day I said yes was a big day, but no orchestra, no roses, and I wasn’t even dressed up.
It was a hot, sticky summer’s eve in June and I was standing on my balcony in shorts and a tank top. My boyfriend was mulling around our tiny apartment doing God knows what.
I was standing there rubbing my 7 week-pregnant belly and that’s when it hit me, since a child was in, I was in too. That was the proposal that I said yes too. Not in an incestuous way but in a very loving, kind way that was unexpected as this light bulb went off in my head, there was another chorus of friends and family members playing, “how are you going to do this? Do you plan on marrying him? How could you do this? Where will you live? And for heaven’s sake, kid, you’re still in college?”
I couldn’t wait until the chorus stopping playing. I had to drown them out with my own sweet song of continuing to say Yes to the little one growing inside of me. It became my personal lullaby.
As for my boyfriend, he didn’t have that same chorus playing for him; he got more of a standing ovation at the end of a beautiful symphony. I didn’t mind so much, I just figured as a man, that’s what happens since he didn’t have to carry – literally the baby or the burden of answering the bulk of the questions.
Throughout the pregnancy, I continued to do the only thing I knew, keep putting one foot in front of the other, I wobbled at times, because my frame wasn’t used to the additional 30 pounds, but nonetheless, my feet kept moving.
I continued to go to class at my private college, and kept up with the mounting doctor appointments and a part time work schedule. It was time in my life where surprises came up, I wasn’t exactly sure what I had agreed to but as time has gone on, my little one is now 4 years old and he’s proven to be the greatest proposal I’ve received to date. And as for my boyfriend, we’re no longer a couple or share a tiny apartment, but there’s a glimmer of hope that he’ll be on bending knee one day with rose petals at my feet, until then I’m very happy with the three-feet tall Elijah, and his various trucks, trains and DVDs that await my feet every day when I step into the living room.