Apology

I can see him. He's sitting on my living room floor between the coffee table and the love seat. He has dark hair, bright, curious eyes, and a wide, luminescent smile. He turns away from whatever he is playing with and looks at me, his mommy.

This is the image I see every time I lie down on the table for an acupuncture treatment, close my eyes and settle in for the hour-long session. It is fitting that I had an appointment the morning following my last post, in which I pretty much complained about the physical weariness that sometimes gets the better of me. Leaving my last appointment, I felt ashamed for dedicating my energies to whining. I am more far-sighted than that.

And besides...there is a soul. It is out there waiting for its physical vessel, its chance to be born into this world and grow up with Jeff and Amanda Delapena doting on it, loving it beyond measure, providing for and guiding it throughout the hills and valleys of life. It is my duty to not lose sight of my responsibility to do all in my power to provide that vessel for that precious soul. Or at the very least, provide a home for it. The physical aches and pains, the emotional twists and turns - it all evaporates when I close my eyes and picture my son. All that's left is the nearly unbearable longing and drive to make that vision a reality.

And so this is my apology to you, my child, for forgetting your face. For getting wrapped up in the daily, weekly, monthly routines - the details of the how trumping the overarching, all-important why. I am sorry for those moments of despair and the urge to ask if it's all worth it. Of course it is. When you are born, I want you to know that your mom and dad wanted you so badly we were willing to sacrifice anything. But more than that, we were willing to sacrifice anything without regret.

This is not about me. Really. It's not. It is not about Clomid, Metformin and Follistim. It's not about Progesterone, follicles, hCG, and glucose levels. It's not about the Paleo diet and cutting out caffeine. It's not about Day 1 or Day 12 or Day 28. It's not about money and time off work for appointments. It's not about negative results and disappointment. It's not about message boards and What to Expect. It's not the ticking of that primal biological clock. It's not even about matching DNA.

This IS about love and our family. It's about future camping trips and vacations to Disneyland. It's about playdates with Brody, or Brynn, or Cassidy, or Frannie, or Aubrey and Kylie, or Kamiya, Kaci, Sophia, Hailey and Tyson. It's about Christmas at Grandma and Grandpa's house, and it's about baking cookies with Auntie Sarah. It's weekends filled with morning cartoons and visits to the park and Crayola artwork wallpapering the refrigerator. It's about learning to read and ride a bike. It's scraped knees, dentist appointments, the occasional flu and a lot of hugs and dried tears. It's lullabies and nightlights and moments of stillness. It's trick-or-treating and school plays. It's daddy showing you the stars on a clear night or mommy chaperoning your first field trip.

It's about the bliss of the mundane. It's about innocence and wonder and dreams.

This is about a promise to that unborn soul. It is all for the love your mommy and daddy already have for you and all the love you will feel for all of your life-to-be. It is the scar we will forever carry as a reminder of what we lost and what we cherish and what will be the greatest blessing and miracle and knowing we will never take you for granted. It is a love too great for two hearts to keep to themselves. It's about that little boy and his carefree smile. And maybe he has a twin sister.