Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Thinking, That's All: What we Had Hoped

I almost called it all off.

John and I had plans to venture into Chicago this weekend for our six-year anniversary celebration while grandma and Buba cared for the boys, feeding their little hearts attention and their little bellies blueberry pancakes and bacon and, I'm sure, root beer, too.

But life happened.

And I didn't know if I wanted to still go, tinge our anniversary celebration with the tears I knew would inevitably spill over lashes -- unexpectedly and expectantly -- during the course of the weekend, having been so raw, so fresh from the loss of our third pregnancy. And to add insult to injury, it was slated to rain, cool autumn air spreading across the city. An entire weekend with childcare is so hard to come by, and did I really want to enter into it with heaviness, sans a drop of romance in my entire body?

Maybe it was the tightness that has been gripping my chest this week from the hormones plummeting like anchors to seabottom or the stress brought on by the unknown and then eventual loss or maybe it was the panic attack induced suddenly and unexpectedly after E shoved play dough up his nose and I had to wrestle it out that pushed my mind into the promiscuous promise of rest and re-cooperation tucked into the weekend -- I don't know what it was that tipped me into yes, we would go.

But we went.

Tightness spread across my chest, mind exhausted, soul tired and wary, body aching, heart fluttering acraze and all -- we went.

As we drove to the city, rain sputtering out of the gray-clouded sky, drops pinprickling the windows of our speeding car, I saw it -- the tiny streams of light that seemed to lie behind the rain clouds, hidden rays beyond the storm.
And that's what our weekend was -- our sixth anniversary, marking our wedding vows.

It was rain.
Sunday am
But there was sun, peaking behind clouds and emerging victorious only to play hide and seek again amid the towering buildings.

It was chilly.

But there was warmth found beneath jackets and blankets, in the creases of fingers strapped together in a clasp of unity and in arms wrapped around shoulders, face buried into chest, soaking tears into cotton and skin.

It was our life, together, -- the Chicago autumn, in all of it's unpredictableness and uncertainty, like romance in the middle of busy lives with kids. And the beauty beat into the grayness, colors married into the lingering of summer sun, a mixed bag of  rain and shine like the vows we'd exchanged six Septembers ago promising tightened grips through sickness and shared laughter through goodness.

It wasn't what we expected or wanted --

it was perfectly and imperfectly timed and walked and lived out just like our promises, our vows, which also were what we never expected or initially wanted

But it was {all} better than what we had ever hoped.

Life: Unmasked