PITY PARTY

Oh my day didn't start out that way....no, I had a plan....I had a list and by golly I was sticking to it to finally get some things accomplished around here. So there I was busily cleaning (Mom, you can stop laughing) the bookshelves in the playroom, tossing magazines into the recycle pile, organizing CD's and books when I saw it....a lovely little piece of memorabilia that I haven't viewed in some time...it dared me to open it. I slowly placed the DVD into my laptop and was transported to 2004. Video of the first few moments after Rylee was placed in my arms. That room in China is in utter chaos - lots of other parents receiving their long-awaited children too - everyone's crying.

The tears haven't stopped over the past few years....tears for Rylee's biological mom and all that she will miss...tears for stubbed toes and skinned knees...tears of fear when she fell down the stairs...and over the past year, tears of loss....as I've watched this hideous disease called Autism take over my big girl. That video showed happier times, when Rylee was still mine. And that "loss" gripped me yesterday. I just couldn't shake it!

And then a friend sent me this:

Welcome to Holland
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may even learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland".

"Holland?", you say, "What do you mean, Holland? I signed up for Italy! All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you go out and buy new guidebooks. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for awhile and you catch your breath, you look around, and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever go away, because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.

But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.

Tomorrow will be a better day....