I wonder if our baby will drool when she sleeps. I wonder if I will stop long enough to notice. I hope so.
I wonder when I stopped drooling. Well maybe not drooling, but dreaming such happy dreams. At some point life took over. Infertility kept me busy. And I found myself avoiding my fertility failures by dashing for accomplishments, which only left me feeling incomplete.
My husband read my blog. He is such a good husband, he always reads them–yet usually in the shadows, leaving me room for my words to write our story.
“Did you really see an ad with a pregnant lady?” he asks. “Yes,” I reply. “Did you really have to walk out of my office because it hurt you?” “Yes” I say, in a defensive tone–watch out buddy I will fight you just like I have to fight most of the rest of this world that just doesn’t understand the pain. “Is there anything I can do to help you?” he says with only love and concern in his voice. He is the love of my life.
And there Isabel sleeps. She is so happy. She is so present, even the wetness beneath her little black nose doesn’t cause her to stir.
I have been stirred up a lot lately. I have been stirring too much. I have been stirred up in a world that prefers “shaken not stirred.” I prefer to be shaken–that ends much quicker–stirring is an endless movement that never allows me to settle.
And yet, today I noticed the little puddle of drool under Isabel’s sleeping muzzle. So perhaps, just maybe, today I am not stirred. Today I am still. Sometimes all we need is just to be still, and to dream dreams so happy that they leave our mouths watering, just like Isabel’s.