Sunflower will sleep in our room for the first year, at least, that's the plan. Still, I realized that he will have things such as diapers and books and clothes and they will need to go somewhere. In that vein I began cleaning out the office next to our bedroom. I was once a teacher and many of my old teaching supplies are gathering dust there. Since my mother also teaches and we're going to visit them this week I figured I'd get them out and organize them to take with us. It felt really strange organizing this room, knowing that it was for my child. It felt even stranger as I felt him move, to realize, we are organizing, together.
As I pulled open a drawer filled with ancient graded papers, ready to toss them out, my hands brushed upon a small plastic bag. It was a little baggie of stars and moons and glitter. The outside of the bag said This baby dust is special and is being sent to you hoping it will help your fondest dreams come true. It came with an order I placed almost two years ago at baby hopes.
I remember holding this little baggie when I first saw it years ago and felt so full of hope. Then, ofcourse, the hope faded and bitterness replaced it. I must have stuck this in the storage closet to push it away into the recesses of my mind.
Holding this little baggie felt strange today. Last time I held it I felt this was all futile. Last time I held it I shoved it away hoping to forget I ever had such hopes. And now I hold it with different circumstances entirely.
I go for my 20 week ultrasound. I hope it goes well. I admit, I'm a little nervous. But I am so thankful to have found this baggie. I will keep it always as a reminder of what it feels like in the space of ambiguity and darkness and remember that sometimes the light does come.