Glow

In his masterful essay "The Lantern Bearers," Robert Louis Stevenson tells of growing up on the rugged Scottish coast where he and other young boys played a peculiar game. They gathered at twilight with a small lantern fastened to their waist, completely obscured by a topcoat. The delight of the activity was in knowing that you carried, deep inside where no one could see, this small beam of light.

He writes, "The essence of this bliss was to walk by yourself in the black night; the slide shut, the top-coat buttoned; not a ray escaping: a mere pillar of darkness in the dark; and all the while, deep down in the privacy of your fool's heart, to know you had a bull's-eye at your belt, and to exult and sing over the knowledge."

This is what has been glowing under my tightly buttoned trench coat for 11 weeks. I have been playing tag on a rocky slope next to craggy cliffs with the sea roaring below, aware of nothing other than the glowing bull's-eye inside of me that no one can see. I've had 11 weeks to treasure it all to myself, to think about it nearly nonstop, to hold it close.

Last year on Decemer 3 we found out our initial round of IVF didn't work. This year on December 3 we went to that same doctor's office, after doing a second round of IVF, and watched our baby thrash around on the big screen during its 10 week ultrasound. Oh, the difference a year can make. Time and love slowly heal all wounds. Sometimes there is even poetic justice with a new December 3 righting the wrong of an old December 3.

I can't believe this is finally happening.

*Excerpt from "Why Every Mom Needs a Purpose Beyond Motherhood" by Tiffany Gee Lewis