|The precious Madeleine Sophia|
When it came time for the baby shower - scheduled for after the birth, just in case the birth mother changed her mind - I knew exactly what to give my friend. Two very adorable dresses had been hanging in my spare closet for the past three years. Dresses I had bought on a whim when the same friend had announced her pregnancy. Even though other friends have had children in that time, little girls too, I could never bear the idea of giving these dresses to anyone else. Hope's embers still glowed, however faintly. It was with delight that I finally took them off the rod and wrapped them in tissue paper. Looking at the size tag I had second thoughts as they may be the wrong season when they are the right size, but hopefully this lil' girl will be petite like her birth parents and it will all be fine. Behind these two dresses was another little outfit, a romper, the cutest romper I have ever seen. Look at it, isn't it super cute? I had bought it as a baby gift for a friend. That child should be about 18 by now. I thought the outfit so adorable I couldn't give it away. I decided to keep it for my own baby girl who certainly wouldn't be that far off in the future. For the last 18 years that little purple romper has been my symbol of hope and dreams. Hopes and dreams that were not unanswered, but shifted, and are in the process of being answered in a very different way than anticipated. With some hesitation, reticence and sadness (and a few thousand times of asking God, "Are you sure, really-really sure I won't need this?") I took that outfit, burdened with so much meaning, and added it to my friend's gift. A friend whose hopes and dreams were at long last answered, also in unanticipated ways, but answered in a beautiful brown-eyed way. I really don't know that I could have given the romper to anyone else. It would have been easier to give it to Goodwill, never to be seen again, than to give it to someone who doesn't understand the process of releasing our hopes and dreams and the heart-ache involved, who couldn't appreciate that this was more than just an article of clothing - I was giving part of my heart. As my friend opened my gift I had no regrets about passing on my symbol that I had been holding onto for so long, its time had come to an end for me, I only hoped she liked it as much as I did. I am content, my heart is full, it overflows with love for my boys - my Micah boys - and they would have looked down-right silly in a purple romper meant for a 2-year old girl.