Lost and Found

The snow smacked against the windows like hands begging to be let in. The windshield wipers strained with the effort it took to continuously knock off the snow that gathered. Her sweaty hands gripped the steering wheel as she strained to see just a few feet in front of the car as it moved at a snail's pace.

A glowing light in the distance marked her arrival at Krogers, a local supermarket. She let out a sigh in relief as she aimed the nose of the car in the direction that would take her towards the warm safety of the store. 

She hoped no one would mind as she parked directly in front. Pulling on her extra jacket and grabbing her purse, she took a breath before sliding out into the white chaos. Snowflakes immediately stuck to her eyelashes and gathered on her shoulders. The wind bit at her nose and gnawed at her fingers as she made her way to the grocery store entrance that slid open at her presence. 

When the door closed behind her and the howling wind was cut off mid-scream, she stomped her feet and shook off the powder that was carelessly slathered all over her jacket. She pulled her phone out and typed a text to her husband. 

[At Krogers on 8th. Storm is really bad. Might have to hang here for a while.]

She waited for the sending line to continue across her screen, but it never sent. She tapped the text and tried to resend it. Nothing. She dialed his number.

“I’m sorry,” a robotic female voice said back to her, “the call can not be completed at this time. Please try again later.”

She pocketed her phone, pulled a cart out from the rack, and looked around. Dropping her jacket over the metal side of the cart, she noticed the store seemed quiet and not just compared to the roaring storm outside. She pushed her cart towards the registers.

“Hello?” she asked the empty space, but only the sound of Christmas carols over the speakers answered her. She shrugged, sure there was an employee somewhere hiding the back or stocking shelves. She pushed her cart into the first aisle and began shopping for things they needed at the house. 

• Cereal
• Lettuce
• Chicken breast
• Tomatoes
• Pasta sauce
• Toilet paper
• Toothpaste
• Hot cocoa mix

She gathered her grocery list items while she hummed along to the music even though Christmas gave her a bad taste in her mouth. Last year on Christmas she had hoped to break the news to her family that they were expecting a baby, but just a week prior to the holiday she had a miscarriage. 

Her and her husband had been giddy with excitement when they first saw the double line on the pregnancy test. They celebrated with a day of ice skating and hot cocoa. They debated over baby names; her husband's father's name if it was a boy, and her maiden name if it was a girl. They placed bets on if it was a boy or girl, and dreamt up plans on how they would decorate the nursery. By the time she climbed into bed that night, her cheeks ached from smiling so much. 

A month later, she experienced painful cramping and she saw blood when she urinated. She called her doctor immediately and they rushed her in. With solemn faces, the doctor informed her and her husband that they had lost the baby. They attended multiple doctor visits to see if there was something going on medically, a reason why they lost the baby. The doctor took blood samples and performed tests, but no cause was found. 

Walking down the aisle for toothpaste, she passed by baby bottles and baby food. A physical ache in her chest caught her off guard and she leaned heavily on the cart in front of her. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. Through the cheery melody of Jingle Bells, she swore she heard the cry of a baby. She shook her head, opened her eyes, and continued on her way. She needed to let it go.

After trying to get pregnant for another six months, she had returned to the doctors and demanded more tests. This is when they discovered that she had endometriosis. Her case was severe enough that it was expressed by the doctors that she wasn’t going to be able to have children. Her heart sank from her chest into her knees and she crumpled into her husband's arms. A moment later she stood, steadied herself, thanked the doctors, and left. It was a dream she was going to have to let go. She set her sights on places she wanted to travel, classes she wanted to take, skills she wanted to learn. She filled the emptiness inside her with positive mantras, yoga classes, online courses, and travel itineraries. She stayed busy. 

She had been at a friend’s house for their monthly reading club meeting when the news blasted word of the oncoming blizzard. This reading club consisted of potential mothers who had either suffered from miscarriage or infertility. A few had adopted children and a few had gone through medical treatments. She felt the least alone when they got together every month. 

The women had hastily said their goodbyes when the storm warning appeared to try to make it home before the worst of the weather hit. The lights in the grocery flickered as the wind continued to pick up outside, howling against the stubborn building.

‘Toothpaste? Check,’ she thought to herself as she tossed the tube into the cart.

Again she heard noises that sounded like a baby cooing, whimpering. She turned around, looking for another shopper with a child, but no one was there. She pushed her cart down to the end and began looking down every aisle. 

Empty, empty, empty, empty. There was no one in the store. The last aisle she looked down had a bundle of fabric on the floor at the very end. Curious, she pushed her cart into the aisle and headed towards it. Halfway down, the bundle moved, and a tiny hand appeared accompanied by cooing. 

‘A baby?’ she thought as she picked up her pace, abandoning her cart. She knelt down next to the wiggling bundle and saw a pink-cheeked baby inside. 

“Oh, hello little one,” she said gently to the baby as she picked him up, swaddled happily in the blankets, and pulled him to her chest. 

“What are you doing here, all by yourself?” Big blue eyes looked up at her with more questions than answers. Her breath caught in her throat as she thought about how much those blue eyes looked like her own, and how his button nose copied her husbands. 

“You are mine,” she whispered to herself, her finger tracing across his forehead and down his nose.

The rattling of a cart somewhere in the store caused her to peek around the corner of the aisle. She couldn’t see anyone. With the baby held carefully in her arms, she pulled her jacket off the cart, put it on, tucked him inside and zipped it up. 

“I can’t believe I found you. You’re home now Edward, you’re safe,” she said to the bundle pressed warm against her chest. Tears began to stream down her face as she hurried to the front of the store. The doors slid open and she disappeared into the white swirling snow.