This past Friday, my baby girl turned 18. The night before that inconceivable event, I sat down to write about it, but as I combed through years of blog stories looking for pictures, I took a turn down memory lane and spent the evening reading about Allyson's life. I hope you'll take a walk with me down through the years.
The story actually begins about 21 years ago, after Bill and I decided we wanted to start a family. The 19 months it took us to conceive felt interminable. It occurs to me now what a blink in time that was compared with the dizzying passage of time these last 18 years.
We were on a Carribean cruise with Ethan when I finally learned I was pregnant--after I'd already filled the prescription for a fertility drug that I would never need to take.
I slept fitfully last night, waiting for the light, waiting to take my test. I got up around 7:30 and crept to the bathroom. I set the test stick flat on the lavatory and watched the fluid spread across the window. The reference line appeared immediately, but there was no test line at first. My stomach sank. [This experience had become far too familiar.]But then I saw a second line, very faint, begin to materialize. I strained to see it, and yes, it got darker and darker. There definitely were two lines, though the second was lighter. I sat and smiled at myself in the tiny mirror. I didn't cry.I climbed back in bed and snuggled up to Bill. I was too excited to fall back asleep, but I lay there for another hour enjoying my secret....
