1780

You were anxiously awaiting your husband, John Laurens, return to home. You paced every hallway, every step, every corner of your house whilst you waited quite impatiently.

John had been gone to war for a few months now, 4 months exactly, and each day he’d been gone was like a stab in the gut as you awaited for your beloved. Your hands fiddled with your wedding ring as you anxiously walked the halls of your home, trying to find something to distract yourself with. You walked past a mirror, sneaking a glance at your growing belly.

You were pregnant. Five months at the very least. You didn’t want to write to John, with the fear that he would become stressed and distracted by such news. Meaning, he had no idea you were expecting. You rub your hand over your tiny baby bump, praying John would get here soon.

Just then, you heard horseshoes clapping against the cobblestone of your driveway. You stick your head out the window, hands resting on the sill as you do so. “John!” You exclaim from the second story window as he tied his horse to a tree nearby for now. From his vantage point on the ground he couldn’t see that you were pregnant.

“My love!” He called out happily. You smiled, rushing down the hall to the staircase. You bound down the steps, pausing at the end of them as John closes the door at the entrance of the house. He turns, a giant smile on his face as he takes you in for a moment. You both pause before dashing into each other’s arms.