Headed Somewhere Special

When we first arrived in the states and realized that MC could be facing serious long term health problems, a lot of readers forwarded me this poem.

And I loved it.

"Lucky" for me, however, we had endured such a long battle with infertility, that  I had barely even started making plans for Italy. 

Remember this post?

I was finally ready to start making plans for Italy and 3 days later the babies were born!

3 days later!!! 

Although I like to consider myself an expert trip planner,  I don't know of anyone who's capable of packing for a foreign country, coordinating sight-seeing plans and learning a new language in a mere 3 days.

I certainly wasn't. I threw a bunch of stuff in a suitcase, bought a one way ticket to somewhere, and hopped on a plane.

The poem was right, though. When I arrived, everywhere around me, people were coming and going from Italy. Even though they were all couples like us, who had been on their fair share of rerouted planes, they had all somehow managed to finally land in Italy.

And then there was me. Despite being constantly told that I had landed in Italy, I knew that no, this was most definitely not Italy. 

Looking back, I realize now that as early as Day 1 in Delhi, I was already flipping to the section of my untouched guidebook-- What to Do if You Happen to Land in Holland. 

Nevertheless, as a matter of survival, I convinced both myself and Duane, for 4 1/2 long months, that, yes, indeed, we had finally landed in Italy.

Our decision to transfer MC to the second hospital in Delhi was a reality check. The doctors were frank. Mommy, they said, contrary to what you may have believed, you are most definitely not in Italy. 

Oh. Well no problem, I guess. It was a bit to digest, but Duane and I talked, and particularly since we had never really prepared for Italy in the first place, we agreed that we'd probably make the best darn Dutch tourists on Earth.

The other day, as I sat in that awful meeting, it hit me.

Dear god, we might not even get to go to Holland.  

That, I, unfortunately, could not digest. We had invested everything we had in this trip. Not only were we going to be the parents that would survive Holland, we were going to be the ones that would embrace it! 

Please, oh please, just let us at least go to Holland.

Since arriving at the rehab hospital, we see families constantly coming and going from Holland. And it's a familiar feeling. Because I think that both Duane and I know that we have not even landed in Holland.

For the past week, I mourned this realization. And I still am.

However, I am slowly coming to understand that there is release in knowing that MC has a very rare syndrome. 

That there is release in knowing that we have not landed in Holland.

That there is release in knowing that we now have the potential to land anywhere... 

... somewhere, perhaps, even better than Holland.

Outfit courtesy of a very special friend.