GETTING MY DUE
Four years ago today, I was pounding the pavement. I was a woman on a mission. It was Friday, December 2, 2005, and I was shopping on a brisk Boston day on Newbury Street. I was trying to finish up my Christmas shopping and was not going to head home until I was done. Or until something else happened.
I was not trapsing up and down Newbury Street over and over simply for the shopping experience; it was my due date. I was nine months pregnant and ready to be DONE with the entire experience of carrying a child. My thought process was that I would shop 'til I dropped - literally. I was hopeful that somehow I could induce labor by over-exterting myself.
By the time I got home that night, I had sore feet, frozen fingers, and lots of presents bought. It would be another six days before I would finally be induced by my OB/GYN.
Tonight I sat on the sofa with Anthony and Amanda, Christmas tree lit (but still undecorated), fireplace blazing, Rudolph on the TV. Amanda was explaining the entire show to me, narrating it if you will, as though I had never seen it before. It was adorable.
There was a time not all that long ago that I couldn't watch Rudolph. It is my favorite of all the Christmas specials, but at the time when we were struggling to have a baby, it couldn't be done. To sit down and watch Rudolph would do little more than remind me that I wished I had a child of my own to enjoy it with. It is amazing to me, now, that when I look back to those days, EVERYTHING caused pain. Every single experience that I now tend to take for granted is something that invoked tears and sadness five, six, seven years ago. Even the simple act of sitting down tonight to watch the show with her didn't remind me of the pain of years past until she reached over and hugged me. All of a sudden, JUST LIKE THAT, I was reminded about how lucky I am and how far I have come.
Four years ago today, I couldn't wait to meet this little girl. Today, I can't imagine how I ever possibly lived without her.
I was not trapsing up and down Newbury Street over and over simply for the shopping experience; it was my due date. I was nine months pregnant and ready to be DONE with the entire experience of carrying a child. My thought process was that I would shop 'til I dropped - literally. I was hopeful that somehow I could induce labor by over-exterting myself.
By the time I got home that night, I had sore feet, frozen fingers, and lots of presents bought. It would be another six days before I would finally be induced by my OB/GYN.
Tonight I sat on the sofa with Anthony and Amanda, Christmas tree lit (but still undecorated), fireplace blazing, Rudolph on the TV. Amanda was explaining the entire show to me, narrating it if you will, as though I had never seen it before. It was adorable.
There was a time not all that long ago that I couldn't watch Rudolph. It is my favorite of all the Christmas specials, but at the time when we were struggling to have a baby, it couldn't be done. To sit down and watch Rudolph would do little more than remind me that I wished I had a child of my own to enjoy it with. It is amazing to me, now, that when I look back to those days, EVERYTHING caused pain. Every single experience that I now tend to take for granted is something that invoked tears and sadness five, six, seven years ago. Even the simple act of sitting down tonight to watch the show with her didn't remind me of the pain of years past until she reached over and hugged me. All of a sudden, JUST LIKE THAT, I was reminded about how lucky I am and how far I have come.
Four years ago today, I couldn't wait to meet this little girl. Today, I can't imagine how I ever possibly lived without her.
