Yesterday we went out to eat at one of our favorite restaurants. The last time we were there I was pregnant. We have not been there in more than a year. I vividly remember the last time we were there. I even remember what I ate. I had just started feeling Brenna's kicks. We had our grandson with us and we kept telling him about "GG's baby". I specifically remember being very happy. Life just seemed so great. I had everything I wanted. I was thinking about that yesterday; about the last time we were there. Then it dawned on me: Sitting there with my husband and my son, I was happy. We laughed (and I meant it!). We talked, ate, joked. We just enjoyed each other. We had a great meal. I was happy. No, scratch that, I am happy.
When did that happen?
Friday night at my son's basketball game there was a pregnant woman who sat in front of us. I didn't even notice her until we were getting ready to leave. Then it dawned on me, I didn't notice her! She didn't bother me. I wasn't envious. I didn't hate her. Nothing. There was also an adorable baby girl there who was born about the same time Brenna was due. At first she didn't bother me, until I kept looking at her, and thinking that Brenna would have been her age. Then it got to me. The thing that hit home for me was the fact that she was obviously a baby with special needs. And I wanted her. I thought to myself, 'I'd take her'. It was just a few days ago that I wrote this post.
"What if we have a baby? What if something is wrong with it? ... I'm afraid of messing up what I have right now."
In the second that I wished for that baby girl, I knew that even if we did have a baby with special needs, we would be OK. I would happily take what I was blessed with.