As I sat on the porch this morning, while the rain fell heavily just out of my reach, I recalled the protective shell I held securely around my emotions from the first email and phone call through to the plane ride back home. At the same time, I was feeling a kind of ecstasy as I walked around in a virtual daze repeating over and over to myself, "This is really happening. Dreams do come true."
Emotional shell on the past, Dance of Ecstasy in the present.
And now, two years later, shell cracked, dancing transformed, I let tears fall with the rain.
I contemplate this forever changed life, no longer having to yearn to know my first born child.
The yearning was endless agony carrying hopeless determination to make it real.
That same agony can also carry hope for the future.
Now I hope that she will come and visit me.
This hope is not a longing, rather a wishing for a gift which I would welcome should it arrive.
All is well.
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