As a kid, I was a dreamy romantic (now that I come to think of it I still am…anyways). I was fascinated with what my life had in store for me. I created elaborate ideas in my head of how I’d meet my one true love, how we’d get engaged, how we’d have babies. This dreaming, though, wasn’t exclusive to matters of the heart. I had scenarios of what my life would be like as a teacher, an actress, a lawyer, a doctor, even as royalty. I couldn’t believe that I had so much life ahead of me to experience. Almost like reading a great novel or watching a good movie, I was eager to know how it would all turn out. Would it end happily ever after? Or was my story a tragedy in the making? Was my life a V.C. Andrews/Danielle Steel novel? Or a Dirty Dancing/Beaches type story?
In much the same way, I wonder about Baby D’s life. Will she find love that is full of roses and scribbled notes of passion? Or will she settle for the first man she meets? Will she find friends that she can have deep discussions with into the wee hours of the night? Will she have the kind of friends who can sit in silence with her and smile? Will she be lighthearted and carefree? Will she be a race car driver? Will she be an actress? Or will she work behind a desk and love it? Will she go to college? Will she go to culinary school? Will she cure women of migranes and menstrual cramps? Will she be at the helm of a great social or spiritual movement? Will she suck at science like her mama? Will she love math?
And those are the big things. I wonder about the little things too. Will she dye her hair blond one day? Will her hands look like mine (ok, enough about Beaches)? What will her voice sound like? What will her handwriting be like? Will she twirl her hair around her finger like her mama does sometimes? Will she lie on her bed to read or sit at a desk? Will she love movies as much as her papa?
Everyone says that the only surprise left in life these days is to not find out the sex of your unborn child. I beg to differ. With Baby D here now I realize that the amount of possibility and potential and unknown has multiplied by a billion in our lives. I know that everyday will hold the possibility, the potential for a surprise.
Today she was tired and worn out. She just wanted to chill. She made a sound I’d never heard before as she drifted off to sleep, a sigh of relief to be going to sleep, a yelp of joy, faint and drifting, a mumbled hello to her dreams…it was a sweet surprise.