Is my mom what?!

When you live in a town where everyone knows each other, it’s likely that you’re going to find yourself the hot topic of discussion at least once. I quickly learned that often my business made it home to my parents before I did—especially when someone sees a seventeen-year-old riding through town with a cigarette.

It didn’t occur to me until I was older exactly how things “work” in a small town. Actually, I didn’t realize it until I was 10 years old and in the fifth grade. After going to another school for the early part of my elementary career, this was my first year in a new school. Like I said earlier, people knew my parents and this didn’t exclude my new teacher.

On this day, nothing was different. At lunch, I managed to sit next to the teacher. This honor meant you were a good student and worthy of her conversation while so thoughtfully consuming a pre-proportioned meal of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. I’m sure it was hard to hold a decent conversation with a fifth grader, so after a moment of silence between us she looked to me with a puzzled expression. “Is your mom pregnant?” she asked. If I could have seen my reaction to that question, I’m sure I’d say that it resembled the deer in the headlight look.

“What? No. Why would you think that?” There really wasn’t any reason for me to assume any truth in this. For ten years I was the only child. I didn’t mind it until I finally realized that mom and dad didn’t get as excited over a seven hour marathon of Super Mario Brothers quite like I did. Occasionally, I’d bring up wanting a sibling but the only answer my mom ever gave me was, “Of course you can have a sister-- if you can order it from the Sears catalog.” I actually remember browsing the pages of the catalog for a possible sibling, but realized that was her nice way of saying it was highly unlikely.

My teacher was obviously shocked that I didn’t know what she was talking about. With a mouthful of food (and a little worried that she’d possibly said too much) she said, “I heard Randy mention it at the store this morning.” Randy is my dad’s brother and the store she was referring to was the one locally-owned gas station in town where everyone met in the mornings. At the store, they would usually catch up on what happened in church Sunday or swap other bits of juicy gossip. Just so happened, it was my parents’ turn to be the topic of conversation that morning.

I could barely sit still the rest of the day. Finally there would be a chance for me to have nieces and nephews, someone to share secrets with and someone that could cover up for me if I was ever late for curfew. This was great! Trying not to get my hopes up, all I could really focus on was getting home and finding out for myself.

Mentally, I was prepared for this conversation. Being 10 and asking your forty-year-old mother if she was pregnant isn’t exactly something you think about often. With my homework out on my lap, I waited patiently at home to hear her car in the driveway. Suddenly my stomach knotted and everything I’d planned out to say was gone. Then I just did it. I blurted out the same question I’d heard only hours prior, the one question that will forever be implanted in my mind. I didn’t know if my mom was pregnant, but I was about to find out.

She was shocked that word got out and took a few minutes to gather herself before she responded with a slow, “Yes, I am. How did you know?” I recounted the lunchroom scene and followed up with one more very important question, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Not that I felt betrayed, but this was something every soon to be sister should know. From there she explained, as best she could, about some tests she’d have because of her age and about how they wanted to wait until she knew everything was going to be okay.

A lot of people have siblings, but not many people have one that is eleven years younger. Luckily for me I remember every cry, every scrape, every joke and every life lesson she’s learned and thinking back, it’s all of those moments that made being an only child for so long worth it.

The rumor mill surrounding a small town isn’t always a bad thing. My life changed that day at lunch, and it hasn’t been the same since.