Dear Mom

Dear Mom,
Two years ago today, we boarded a plane headed to the most beautiful city on earth for what would be one of the best weeks of my life. When we set foot on that plane, we were not nearly prepared for what lie ahead of us: missed flights and lost luggage. Nor could we have known what the upcoming days would bring.

Although we didn't leave Atlanta until we were suppose to land in Michigan, we made the best of our time together. The flight to Germany, to get to Paris, was a little unexpected but at least we get to say we have been to Germany. And, me, me out of all people, the girl who packed six weeks worth of clothes for one week, is the one who ends up with NO luggage for the entire trip. But, that was OK. We made the best of it. A quick shopping spree to pick up some dresses for the week and a few little stops throughout the week resulted in plenty of clothes - and some of my now-favorite, go-to-outfits. (I was going to spend that money any way, right!)

Mom, I really needed that trip. I think I had given up hope at that point in my life. The "you don't ovulate" diagnosis had gotten to me. The miscarriage a few months before the trip had broken me. Paris' beauty brought me back to life. We saw all the must-see sights: the gargoyles of Notre Dame, The Eiffel Tower, The Grotto, and Marie's Hamlet.



And even when we weren't sight seeing, we found beauty every where we went.


That is what I loved about the trip the most: the company. There I was with some of the most amazing women I have ever met. All of us smart, creative, funny, adventurous and beautiful in our own way. All of you mamas. Yet each one of you had a story of trying, losing, wishing and eventually holding your own babe.

I don't know if all of you will ever know how much I needed you at that time of my life. You each gave me hope.

Especially that day in Belgium when we visited that church in that small little town. The church that is known for making miracles happen. On an afternoon in the middle of the week, people strolled in and out. As we approached the building, I think we all felt something special. As we entered, we all became silent. (For the first and only time during the entire trip, I might add.) Walking out, each one of us had tears streaming down our faces. No one said a word. We each held that feeling close.

Mine was the belief that one day I would become a mama. Miracles do happen every day.


And so there were plenty of moments like that. More importantly, there were a lot more moments like this: spontaneous, goofy, loving life moments - my favorite kind.



Before we knew it, the trip was over. Remember that last morning? We all woke up early and began to stroll through Paris. We ended up at Notre Dame. The sun was shining. We all felt so close to each other, as if we had been best friends forever.

In the van, on the way to the airport, we all cried. We didn't want it to end. We vowed to return again one day - all of us, together.

If I could be with you today, we could eat french food for lunch and reminisce. But you are at work today and I am at home with my babe.

I think I will dress him in the outfit we bought that afternoon. The red one we found in the fancy children's store. The one I knew would be for someone else's babe. The one you secretly stashed away for a few years because you knew it would be for my babe.

Before we left, you snapped this photo of me in our hotel window.
Mom, I love you.