We are packing for our third of four Christmas celebrations, and my meatloaf is thawing in the microwave, so I have 8 minutes to get this down but I think it’s important.
Last night I was looking at pictures of 2008 Christmas on Seth’s parents’ computer and in a series of photos I was holding my one-month-old nephew Ben and looking very happy and it hit me that, damn, I was pregnant with Baby No. 1 in that photo.
And here we are a year later and we finally have our baby and we’re celebrating Christmas and I have to say that she was totally worth the heartache and the waiting and the crying on the Long Road to Molly and I can’t imagine any kind of world without her in it.
Someone told me a long time ago that I’d feel this way, and he’s right.
I can’t stop thinking about how she stayed strong through all my fear and doubt and restored my faith before she was the size of a pie pumpkin. I’d like to think that she or someone she knows had some idea all along.
There are at least three human beings that my heart is longing for this season, but I am forced to conclude that 2009 is ending a hell of a lot better than the way it started.
What a miracle.
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