Three days before we were set to leave, Lily got a really bad flu bug. She was throwing up and essentially motionless and expressionless for 72 hours. She looked so frail and small that my heart broke every time I looked at her. She had a Disney countdown on her door for the entire month before we left and it was left unchanged beginning Tuesday (the first day she was sick). No stickers were added and no happy dances were danced. It was a tug of war inside me because the over-protective mama bear in me wanted to keep her safe and warm with me here at home. The sliver of realist in me knew that I couldn't sacrifice a whole trip because she hadn't fully recovered by "drive day". So, I loaded her up in the car with dad (Mark, his mom and Lily drove down to FL) and told her I loved her. I waited for a response and upon not receiving one I repeated the sentiment. She slowly focused in on my face and said, "Mom, can you please stop talking to me?" Then slipped back into the large eyed vacant expression that had come to replace her normal vibrant smiling face. I had never felt so guilty as a mom. Mark called from the road about 10 minutes later saying she was sleeping peacefully. I didn't breathe easily until we reunited in Florida two days later.
The child I found in our room in Orlando was a thinner but almost fully revived little girl. Being that I hadn't seen her slow recovery I was overjoyed to hug her tiny little body and kiss her cheerful face. I was all the more enchanted seeing Lily's eyes light up at the sight of the beautiful princesses. I relished watching her while her eyes were on the parades and sights of the Magic Kingdom. I dragged Finn in his floaty boat in the pool to mirror Lily's deft lap swimming in the pools. All in all, this was Lily's vacation. It was a magical experience to witness her completely enveloped in whimsy, wonder and fun.
It made me realize that she is growing up faster than I can even rationally understand. She will be five in July, and just this past week had a friend knock on the door asking for her to come out and play. Mark and I were flabbergasted. He answered the door and sort of puzzled looking, turned and said, "Lily, it's for you."
We have been blessed with two living breathing miracles. And sometimes it takes a juxtaposition of highs and lows to illuminate just how fleeting all of these experiences are and how lucky we are to have them at all.
