Come visit me in Canada!

Just a quick note to let you know that I'm honored to be guest blogging over at The Canadian Housewife, my dear friend Jenn's blog, today. My post is in honor of National Infertility Awareness Week; this year's theme is "You Are Not Alone."

(Fair warning: if you're not already a reader of Jenn's blog, you just might get hooked!)

Dear Lily: Today, I felt like a mom.

Dear Lily,

We've had some really great days lately, my bugaboo. We modeled your new shades in sunny Florida:

And we tested out the open-air transportation available to us care of Granny and Granddaddy's golf cart on the island:

I loved spending two weeks with you and your Daddy, happily vacationing in the sunshine, soaking up time with your grandparents, testing out your newfound speed on two legs. Yet, in spite of those wonderful weeks, today was when I had a sudden burst of joy in feeling like the mama I always imagined I might be.

It was a simple enough decision: I picked you up after school under somewhat breezy but pleasantly sunny skies. I'd asked Daddy to dress you warmly enough to be outside; my original idea had been to take you to the town center and walk around a bit while I sipped a Starbucks. At the last minute, though, I decided to take a peek at a nearby playground I hadn't yet visited with you. To my happy surprise, I discovered a dozen exuberant children--many only a smidge bigger than you--and their assorted caregivers, all joyfully relishing in the early spring warmth.

And then came the moment. The moment I used to think about as I walked around the lake, the moment I used to daydream about as I made the commute to work, the moment that got me through the losses and the tests and the shots and the fear.

The moment I became just another mom on the playground, smiling at her daughter's antics.

You took the slide by storm, then tore off for the platform--the one specifically labeled as being for "5-12 year olds." It didn't stop you.

Finally, as your energy began to wane (in spite of numerous pit stops for Trader Joe's Cheddar Rockets), you found a safe spot, tucked beneath a platform.

Your head craned back, eyes wide, you studiously watched the bigger kids around you as they raced across the platform, hopped off one end, and rushed to climb to the top again. I imagine you were dreaming of being as big as them one day, but all I was doing was realizing my dream was sitting in front of me.

So, yes, as I type this, you're crying (again) in your crib. I haven't slept through the night in over three weeks, and the days aren't much easier, as you insist on being held or entertained nearly all the time. Today's experience on the playground didn't erase any of those facts (or make me feel any more rested!), but it did remind me of why this life is the one I've dreamed of for so long.

Of why you are the one I've dreamed of for so long.

With all the sleepy hugs I can muster,
Your Mama