I sat in the breakfast nook with my four-year-old son, Matthew, trying to ignore the ache in my stomach. \u201cMama, want to play?\u201d Matthew said, rolling his Tonka trucks up and down my leg. I shook my head. \u201cNot today, baby.\u201d<\/p>\n
These days I could barely get out of bed. I was still recovering from an emergency hysterectomy to remove a benign tumor. Toys cluttered every room of the house. I hadn\u2019t cooked in ages, relying on casseroles from the ladies at church. I prayed for strength and happiness. But the future seemed so bleak.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe don\u2019t need a big family,\u201d my husband reassured me. \u201cYou and Matthew are all I need.\u201d I couldn\u2019t get past it, though. I\u2019d always wanted five or six kids, ever since I read Cheaper by the Dozen <\/em>in high school. Three miscarriages and one surgery later, that dream would never come to be.<\/p>\n Matthew jumped up from his spot on the kitchen floor. \u201cBirdie!\u201d he squealed, rushing to the sliding glass door that opened onto our courtyard. Sure enough, there was a white dove perched on a rubber tree.<\/p>\n It sat there a few moments, then flew away. Strange. I\u2019d never seen one in our neighborhood before.<\/p>\n When I dragged myself to the kitchen the next morning, the dove was back. This time with a mate carrying twigs. \u201cLook, Matthew,\u201d I said, pointing to the tree. \u201cThey\u2019re going to make a nest.\u201d The doves flew in and out of the courtyard all week, building on top of the rubber tree.<\/p>\n Matthew could hardly contain his excitement. Every morning, he\u2019d run into the kitchen and take his spot by the sliding glass door, talking to the birds while they worked. His enthusiasm was contagious. As much as I was grieving, I couldn\u2019t help but look forward to the doves\u2019 visits too.<\/p>\n We watched their progress as if it was a real-life soap opera unfolding before us. I\u2019d make breakfast, scoop Matthew up into my lap, and for a moment, my pain disappeared, replaced by joy.<\/p>\n Then it all went wrong. The courtyard was a safe enough spot for a nest, but the rubber tree\u2019s broad, glossy leaves were far from stable. One night, a gust of wind blew through, flinging the doves\u2019 nest to the ground. I heard the twigs snap apart.<\/p>\n