While digging in the closet today I found this start to a baby blanket. I began knitting it eight years ago, when I was pregnant with my first born and found out he would be a boy. To me this scrap of yarn represents everything I didn’t know or couldn’t imagine before I had kids.
Andrew was born five weeks early before I finished the blanket or even had the baby shower my friends had organized. The yarn and needles lay tucked away along with so many plans.
When I began knitting this blanket I never imagined how scary it would be when Andrew came down with RSV and needed a breathing treatment at four months, or how guilty I felt when he was two and broke his leg. I couldn’t imagine how alone and helpless I would feel when he was five and diagnosed with ADHD.
I also never imagined how full my heart would feel whenever I look at him. Or how I can’t help but smile at his clever observations. Or how proud I am of him when he does something selfless.
The present may be different from the future I planned, but it is better than I could have dreamed.
I binded off the blanket and decided to call it a scarf. Albeit a long ugly scarf. I gave it to Andrew because after all it was meant for him.