Ten Reasons NOT to Fall in Love With a Bear

Epilogue

Epilogue – One Reason TO Fall in Love with a Bear

            And in the end, there was only one reason to fall in love with a bear. Once you fell for him, you were a goner and every argument you had against accepting his love becomes invalid. No love can equal that of a mate and if you find yours, the last thing you want to do is resist falling in love with them. I mean, have at it, resist all you want but he or she will always reel you in. You love them unconditionally, irrevocably, and full heartedly. No one can match them and you wouldn’t ever want anyone to.

            Besides that, it only took me so long to figure out that all the reasons NOT to love a bear are really traits that most men possess. Therefore my bear is no different than any other man. He just has a strange way of showing those traits, a way uniquely his own.

            I loved him like any woman loved a man, with an extra passion on the side because he made me as happy and proud as I was. I would give up the world if it meant being with him and I knew that he would do exactly the same.

*                                   *                                   *

            “Wednesday!” I called. Where was that girl? She was always disappearing in a pitter-patter of little feet. It didn’t help that she was always causing trouble. She was so mischievous, just like her father. “Wednesday?”

            I heard a shuffle from behind me and whirled. There was nothing there. With a sigh, I turned around and continued my search. There was another shuffled and a giggle. I peeked over my shoulder to see a small shadow. She giggled again. I waited for her to disappear and turned around again. “Well, I guess she doesn’t want to go get ice cream with me.” I pouted my lips and went to walk away.

            “No!”  A small body lunged out of the shadows and latched onto my leg. “I want ice cream mommy!”

            I laughed and pulled her off my leg, settling her on my hip. Wednesday, as I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, is my daughter. Yes, she has the same name as the daughter from the Addam’s family. She was also born on a Wednesday and due to the lack of planning, that was what ended up being written on the birth certificate.

            By lack of planning, I mean that she was a surprise. A complete and total surprise. I literally hadn’t known I was pregnant until I was in labor. I hadn’t gained much weight or had any morning sickness. My period had been there, or at least, what I thought was my period. My only symptoms had been my strange appetite, my swelled breasts, and my crazy hormones.

            We went into the ER for my terrible stomach pains and were incredibly shocked when the doctor told me that I was in labor. Just imagine the shock Joey and I were in. We weren’t exactly “safe” every time we slept together but we never dreamed I would’ve gotten pregnant. But I had gotten pregnant and nothing was going to change that.

Three days later, I was taking a baby home from the hospital in a baby carrier my mom had borrowed for the neighbor. It was scary—even scarier than if I had known I was carrying her. I had no idea how to take care of her and I had had nothing to do so. Joey and I had been shell shocked. Slowly though, we got the things we needed and we learned to take care of her. It was hard, but we adapted.

            She was born the last month of our senior year. We almost missed our chance to graduate with our class but we had managed to get our exams done and walk across the stage. (With a few curious classmates asking where we had been, of course.) They had been as shocked as were had been when we told them about Wednesday.