I love that little girl. She is a sweet sweet little flower just beginning to bloom. We all stare in awe as she makes progress in speech, becomes more aware of herself and her surroundings. Our hearts soar each time a therapist tells us how wonderful she is doing. I AM THANKFUL.
And while I am thankful for who she is and all the wonderful progress she has made, I still have my moments. Moments where I wish she would let me hug her or come snuggle with me on the couch. I long for her to say "I love you, mommy." There was a time when these longings overwhelmed and consumed me for hours, mourning the loss of the vision I had for our relationship. Like the beautiful story I once read to describe this journey, I went on a trip, destination Italy, and landed in Holland only to discover I am never going to Italy. But as I mourn at the realization I will never see wonders of the coliseum or the Trevi Fountain, I begin to notice the loveliness of Holland and admire the beautiful windmills, full of strength. All my friends are in Italy. Sometimes I wish I was too. I still want to see Rome sometimes. But that doesn't mean I haven't fallen in love with Holland or appreciate it's uniqueness. It's different. It's not what I had planned. But there is beauty here too.
