Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Laughter is the best medicine

When Dave and I were married, we had a beach wedding (for those of you who didn't know this). We didn't want the formality of a traditional wedding, so we chose vows that would reflect a more informal tone. I think we found some vows online and changed them a little to reflect our own personalities. Here are his vows:

From this day on I choose you, Jill, to be my wife,
To live with you and laugh with you;
to love you completely and straightforwardly
because I know no other way.
To you, I promise to share with you all that I have,
to stand beside you in good times as in hard times
to wipe your tears and to hold your hand
to play with you as much as I can
to bring out the best in you always
until our lives come to an end.

As beautiful as I think our vows are and as important as I believe all of the lines are, there is one line that stands out to me: to play with you as much as I can. It is so significant at this moment that we continue to play. We have been able to hold on to our childlike spirit and not release it to bitterness.
Don't think that we play all the time. We are adults, you know. But there are so many nights when we go to bed and laugh and laugh and laugh. I told Dave how it reminds me of when my nana would come over to my house when I was younger, and we'd lie in bed and do the same. My parents would yell at us down the hall and tell us to go to sleep. I have such fond memories of our laughing in bed.
Lily feels it. She is most active when I crawl into bed. She knows. She must like those hormones I'm shooting her way from all the laughter. I'm sure it's a whole lot better than when I'm choking back tears.
It's not only that, though. I think she's already a Daddy's Girl. She knows that I'll be lying against Dave, and she'll feel his touch. Last night, she was delirious! I've never felt her move like that, but she did this as his back was against my belly. She definitely knows his touch. I know how she feels. I'm guilty of that same sense of delirium still.
I know that Trisomy 18 babies are not generally as active as "normal" babies are. It makes me wonder if a small part of it has to do with the sadness that has invaded our lives and lingers even when our thoughts are somewhere else. It's that thought that drives me to try to not give myself over to that sadness and makes me appreciate the laughter that I am able to share. I think Lily appreciates it, too.

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