I have been thinking about you so often lately. I know you are thinking about me, too, because I have felt you very close to me recently.
I wonder if you know when you are on my mind? I wonder what you are up to these days? I wonder if you will come home to us in this lifetime? I wonder if you know the answer to that question?
I wonder if you are waiting for me to get some part of life and being your mother right before you make your grand entrance? I wonder if you are scared, as I am?
I believe that you must know how fiercely, eternally and unconditionally you are loved, how achingly your physical presence is missed and how incredibly much you are wanted. If your confidence in any of these waivers – ever – please re-read this letter.
In reading these words, please know that there is a bottomless sea of love, a flood of affections, a miraculous older brother, an amazing, funny and loving father, a rather fun but occasionally cranky terrier and me, your devoted mother, waiting for you. We love, want and need you more than these or any words could ever fully express.
You are loved. You are wanted. You are needed. We are all waiting for you, beloved Azulito.
Speaking for myself I cannot say the wait has been a patient one. As you may have observed, I am known for my tenacity, my perseverance, my ferocity (in love and in war). I am not known for my patience.
I believe you have so much to teach me and our little family. I know this because you have already taught me and your father so much.
You have taught me to love with an open heart in the face of uncertainty.
You have taught me to hope when the days are as dark as the night and the future seems desperately uncertain.
You have taught me to heal my tattered, weeping heart. Time and time again, you have brought this lesson home to me.
You have taught me to listen to my body and myself.
You have taught me that exercising patience does not of itself guarantee success.
You have taught me that success when it comes to creating and sustaining life is never guaranteed.
You have taught me to dig deep and find the courage to move forward when surrounded by armies of fear’s soldiers.
You have taught me to believe in you. And you have taught me – are teaching me – to believe in me. No matter what happens.
You have taught me to trust my instinct and not take the easy (or the less costly) road or play ostrich. In doing so you have taught me the inherent worth of having meaningful answers when others insist that none exist.
You have taught me to hold fear’s hand and to charm fear’s cobra.
You have taught me to act bravely against all odds. In other words, you have taught me to fake it when I cannot make it.
You have taught me to give to others what I wish I could have received earlier in life myself and what I am so fortunate to be receiving from others now, too.
You have taught me the inimitable power of connection.
You have taught me – are teaching me – to pay heed to and trust my perceptions.
You have taught me not only to feel compassion but to show compassion to others who are hurting as I have hurt in losing my physical connection with you over and over again.
You have taught me that faith is precious and that a faithless life is a hollow one that reverberates its vacuous loneliness in perpetuity.
You have taught me that the frequency with which bad things happen to good people is no measure of their entitlement to good things, including miracles.
You have taught me to believe in miracles.
You have taught me that miracles do happen. I would never have appreciated this as intimately as I do now if you had not taught me all of the lessons I have recited above and below this one.
You have taught me that there is no quota on miracles in a person’s lifetime and that for this reason it is okay to ask for more than one to enter a given life.
You have taught me – and you see the need to keep teaching me – how important it is for me to love and take care of myself. I am a work in progress in this area. Thank you for bearing with me.
You have taught me that hard work does not always mean we accomplish our goals.
You have taught me that I am not in charge. You have taught me that there is deep wisdom in accepting this fact.
You have taught me that when we finally are reunited for a healthy pregnancy and a live birth, I will have learned many of the skills and acquired some of the wisdom that your father and I will need to nurture and support you.
I feel the warmth of your love every time you flash your blue/purple and yellow lights behind my eyes, around my head as I try to communicate with you and sometimes when I am not yet aware of your presence. I love it when you surprise me by showing up unexpectedly. I love it when you come after I call out to you.
Although I do not know when we will be reunited for the ultimate time, I trust that we are meant to be together. I know that you will come to me in time. As much as I hope that time is soon, my love for you does not flag and will never waiver no matter how long I wait to hold your hands in mine.
I sometimes worry that you may think I have my heart set on you showing up as a boy. I have been fearful sometimes that you may feel less welcomed into our family and in particular my life if your destiny is to arrive as a girl. I have done considerable soul-searching about this in the past year and I can say with confidence that I will be delighted to be your mother whether you are girl, boy, tomboy, girly boy, hermaphrodite, or destined to be transgendered.
I love you, Azulito. I love you as you *are*, whatever that may bring.
Please come home, little one.