On Monday, I was very, very happy. Happier than I have been in a long time. Happier than I remember being. The good news washed over me like molten sunshine. One moment I was havng an ordinary day, having picked E. up at the baby sitter's house and the next moment I was transported.
It lasted a couple of hours. I danced around the house. I sang little songs; "We are going to have a daughter. There's a new baby coming. We are going to have a daughter..." over and over and over. I twirled. I felt good.
And then slowly reality returned. I realized the veil had lifted momentarily, but it meant to settle back over me. Grief lapped over my toes, unwilling to be forgotten. I longed to call my mom and tell her the good news. Who first? Who else? I knew in my heart she would be pleased and excited for us. I knew in my heart that she was beginning to love our daughter just as we were.
No mom. No phone call. No sharing the good news, at least for a moment. For a moment, just grief, lapping, calling, rolling in like dense fog to bewilder me again. The airiness gone, replaced by thickness. The light faded to dimness. Pain and joy side by side, bumping one another, blurring their edges together.
The dimness. The veil. The moments of confusion, incomprehension, fear. The utter unfairness. The anger, denial, sadness, pain, regret, wistfulness, quiet, acceptance.
But for a moment, the sun was sparkling on the water and the air was clear and the future beckoned. It was lovely.
Posted by grrlTravels at October 28, 2004 9:24 PMI am so sorry. I'm crying with you on this one.
Posted by: Michele at November 6, 2004 11:41 PM