The Questions of Spring
As I sat watching Adam yesterday, I couldn't help but think of what the protocol might be had my water broken in the stands? At 39 weeks and 1 day, I thought it a pertinent question at the time. Does someone run down and tap the manager on the shoulder? Do I sit there soaking wet until Adam comes and gets me? Would he come get me in his uniform? Awkward. Or would it be assumed that I somehow waddle with pee-looking pants to the car myself and wait for him? And where's Amelia in all of this?
Thankfully for me - and probably Adam too - no such scenario presented itself. Although I would absolutely be intrigued by real-life answers to my question. Probably the most likely one I'd receive is, "Hey, dingbat, don't go to a game 39 weeks pregnant." But c'mon. Where's the adventure in that?
And regardless of performance, I don't know how it's possible that my life look any sweeter. These people!!!! Are you kidding me?! Talk about picture perfect. My heart just leaps out of my chest for them. Oh, Adam and Amelia. How I love you both so much!
Adam pitched yesterday and mostly, it stunk to watch. He's still ironing out some mechanics in his delivery and the frustration of his performance was apparent. He's not ever struggled to find his approach like he's been experiencing this spring, but he's also never worked on some of the things he's been focused on this spring either. He'll come around and things will click. And I know that to be true because if you know Adam, you know he never leaves a stone unturned or a question unanswered. He'll find a way. He'll figure it out. And this season will produce fruit because of his diligent labor. Proud of you, Adam!
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