Page 51 of How We Loved

She also hates all green food. Who can blame her, really? But all the green stuff is the healthy stuff.

So not only was I crawling on the floor with my giant arse in the air, I was also covered in baby puree and upchuck.

“You’re putting this in your diary, right?” he asked. “This is pure gold.”

Funny bugger.

30th April.

I found myself strolling down a familiar path, pushing Hope's stroller towards the campus—a daily ritual that provided a brief respite as Ben visited Baz at the shop. Walking had become my go-to strategy to keep Hope entertained, even if it felt like I was talking to myself most of the time. Apparently, building her vocabulary from an early age was essential, a concept that my own mother seemed to have missed. So, there I was, pointing out mundane things like "Oooh, a big red bus" and "Look at the pretty flowers."

As I meandered, I realized that my feet were leading me towards the campus, a place that had once held significant importance in my life. Now, it felt like a foreign territory, a stark contrast to my newfound role as a mother. The naive belief that I could seamlessly juggle motherhood and my degree now seemed like a distant, foolish dream. Inwardly chastising myself, I couldn't help but think, "I really am a total moron at times."

Upon arriving at the campus, I made my way to the history block, searching for Pro Jo's office. Luckily, he was in, and his warm greeting contrasted with the alien atmosphere around me. Hope giggled as he bounced her on his knee, bringing a genuine smile to my face. Gratefully accepting the cup of tea he offered, I marvelled at the prospect of having a warm drink, secretly hoping I might actually get to savour it before it turned stone cold.

We exchanged pleasantries for a moment, and I knew it was time to open up about my concerns. I cleared my throat and looked into Pro Jo’s understanding eyes. “You know,” I began, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about whether I can come back and finish my degree. At first, I thought I could manage it, but now... I’m not so sure.”

Pro Jo nodded, his expression sympathetic. “It’s completely normal to have doubts, Lilah,” he said gently. “Being a mother is a significant and demanding role. But remember, it doesn’t mean you can’t also pursue your dreams.”

I sighed, a weight lifting off my shoulders as Pro Jo continued. “You’re a bright and capable student. I believe in your potential. You can succeed in both your academic pursuits and being the best mom you can be. It won’t be easy, but it’s possible.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized I needed to hear those words of encouragement. I had been so consumed by guilt about wanting things for myself as well as being a good mother.

“Thank you, Professor Johnson,” I said, my voice trembling with emotion. “I needed to hear that. I’ll find a way to make it work, for Hope, for Ben, and for myself.”

Pro Jo smiled warmly, gently bouncing Hope on his knee. “I’m here to support you every step of the way, Lilah. You’re not alone in this journey, and you shouldn’t feel guilty for pursuing your dreams. It’s a part of being a wonderful role model for Hope.”

As we continued to chat, I felt a renewed sense of determination and confidence. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but could I do it?

“There’s something else?” I said.

Johnson drilled me with one of his driest looks. “You surprise me. Go on.”

So I told him about the newspaper offer, to which he had his mouth hanging open, shaking his head and grinning.

“What?” I asked once I’d finished.

“Honestly, Lilah, if this was going to happen to anyone, it was going to be you.”

“What does that mean?” I asked him, honestly a bit affronted.

“You. Nothing about you is ordinary.”

I mused on that. “Good thing or bad thing?”

“Good. Definitely good, and do you know what? It doesn’t matter if you get your degree or what happens next. If any student that’s passed through these halls the last few years is going to do something extraordinary, it’s going to be you.”

“But you just told me to finish my degree.”

“Well, don’t listen to anything I say. Go and be famous, don’t hold yourself back all for a stupid History degree that won’t even get you a job.”

“Don’t put that in the prospectus, will you.”

“Our secret. Honestly though,” he checked his watch and handed Hope back over. Damn it if I’d drunk my tea while it was warm. “I’d love you to come back and finish, but I also want you to make a huge success of your future, and I don’t know if you need to do one to have the other.”

I nodded and slid Hope into her pushchair, fiddling with the damn buckles that I’m sure were created so I’d feel like a total moron every time I tried to take her out in the damn thing.

“Rightio. I’m off; Ancient Athens is calling.”

“Ahhh, I miss Ancient Athens.”

He shot me a dry look. “No, you don’t, Lilah. No, you don’t.”

Ben came home and found me on the sofa with a napping Hope on my chest. I had a biro sticking out of my mouth and my first diary open on the arm of Ikea’s Expedit--basic but washable, essential for parenting.

Actually, I think that summarises every moment of being a parent. Basic but washable.

He smiled, his gaze knowing. The smug bugger. “You’re doing it?”

My chest squeezed, fear and excitement trying to take me down. “I think so. Am I crazy?”

“Always my love, always.”

I think he meant it in a good way.

Jesus. I’m actually going to do this. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m crazy after all.