One morning, before I was pregnant with Baguette, Mr. Sandwich said, “I had a dream last night. I was in the hallway, and a little girl in pajamas came up to me and said, ‘Daddy, I had a bad dream. Can I get in bed with you and Mommy?’ I don’t know what she looked like, but I knew she was our daughter, and I held her hand and helped her into the bed so she could snuggle between us.”
Baguette is very expressive, but she can’t ask that question yet. Nevertheless, Mr. Sandwich and I have, with greater and greater frequency, been turning to each other and saying, “You know, this is a dream come true for me.”
Before Baguette, I had two miscarriages. Each required a D&C. (The second was followed immediately by flu so bad we’re pretty sure it was H1N1. And we both had it at the same time. That has nothing to do with fertility, but man, were we miserable.) So while we very much wanted to have children, there was a point at which we weren’t sure that would be possible. The result is that even though we’re exhausted–and even though I had another miscarriage (also requiring a D&C) about six months ago, we are very, very grateful.
So what are the grand, major-milestone moments that have prompted us to say, “This is a dream come true”?
- Holding hands with Baguette
- Carrying her on our shoulders
- Reading with her on one of our laps
Really, what more could we need?
So sweet.
Every single day, I am amazed by how fortunate we are. I am incredibly thankful.
I’m sorry to hear that you had 2 miscarriages. Very touching post, and definitely very important to remember especially after sleepless nights!
Three now, and they all sucked. We wanted each of those babies very much. But I will say that for me, the third was in some ways the most awful, and in others the least awful. It was impossible for me to stay sad when Baguette would smile at me. Just as I would be feeling really down, I would receive an adorable, blinding baby grin, and I would feel much better.
(That’s me. Other people might not have that reaction. Everyone is entitled to their own reaction.)
I’ve noticed that you both really do live in the moment and appreciate all the highs and lows of parenting.
On a different note, I need to apologize. After my dad died, I remember saying something extremely insensitive to you about your expression on your wedding day when the priest mentioned children. I’m very sorry – I really need to learn to keep my thoughts to myself. I was unaware of the miscarriages and stupidly thought you had decided not to have children. Obviously I don’t know other people’s hearts and made a rude, careless comment. I’m so glad that God blessed you with Baguette, who truly is one of the prettiest girls in the world.
Thank you for that apology. I have to admit that even with it, I have only the faintest memory of what you said–certainly it didn’t stick with me, so please don’t worry about it! (And that’s a real compliment about Baguette, coming from the mother of two very pretty girls.)
There is nothing like parenting to bring you into the moment. For a long time, I’ve been struck by the fact that I often live outside the moment–I feel like I’m noticing how I experience things, rather than just experiencing them. It’s actually a little worrisome. But I have no concerns about that regarding my time with Baguette. Highs or lows, there’s no getting around the moment. I actually really appreciate that phenomenon!
So cool to have had a dream about a little girl and then actually HAVE a little girl! I have a friend who swears that with 2 of her children (she has 4) they told her their names in a dream. And she proceeded to name them thusly.
Nice! We didn’t name Baguette until after she was born; we had a list, and her eventual name was a frontrunner, but we hadn’t really decided. So we held her up, looked at her, said names aloud, and gave her the one that seemed to fit. (Spoiler alert: that name is not “Baguette.”)