We had been married for a year. I was working to support us while J bought film equipment and struggled to get his own business off the ground. One night, I had a vivid dream. In it, J and I were sitting in a movie theater when a woman walked down the isle leading a little girl with curly, red hair. I knew instantly that the little girl was mine. I woke abruptly in an absolute panic. Several nights later, I had another dream. This time, I ran into a couple we knew. They were carrying a little bundle, swaddled tight. "Would you like to see our baby?" the man asked, lifting the blanket to reveal her face. Again, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of certainty that the little girl was supposed to be my daughter.
After much hand wringing, prayer, and internal debate, I approached J and told him that I believed there was a spirit who was too eager to wait for me to experience 'my' life. If I wasn't willing to have a baby now, she would join a family who was willing. Though I had only glimpsed her in dreams, I couldn't bear the thought of losing her to my own selfish desires. Neither of us felt ready, but we tossed the birth control pills and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
After 9 months and one miscarriage, I was confused. If she was so eager, where was she? Maybe I was prompted to start trying to have a baby so that I'd find out early that I wouldn't be able to conceive. Perhaps those dreams were meant to tell me that we'd adopt our little girl. While I still felt ill prepared to be a mother, the mere thought that I might not be one made me want a baby all the more.
The stress was getting to us. J was starting a business. We were looking to buy our first home. We were about to embark on either parenthood or a long struggle with infertility. You really can't blame me for buying the tickets.
Plane tickets.
Round trip to Europe for $600. We took our entire down payment on a house and backpacked through England, Ireland, France and Italy. For over two weeks, we took trains, biked to castles, stayed in hostels, roamed museums, rented a scooter, rode along the italian coast, tried to drive {stick!} on the wrong side of the road, went to a concert, mangled {several} languages and ate gelato, french pastries, bangers and mash, crunchy baguettes and pesto pizzas til we thought we'd explode.
It was wonderful.
Two months after we came home, I was pregnant.
5 comments:
That second picture is gorgeous.
What a great story---thanks for sharing...
loved it.
So cute! Sounds like fun!
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