A Simple Act of Kindness

This morning, as I walked out of Daniel's preschool after drop-off, I was stopped by another Mom. Her son is in Daniel's class and we have been acquaintances for a number of years. She started by acknowledging that she felt awkward about what she had to say. She mentioned that she had heard from someone else what I had recently been through, and she wanted to share her story with me. This Mom, who has a 7-month-old in addition to her son who is Daniel's age, told me that she had been through extensive fertility treatments with her first pregnancy. She wanted to recommend her doctor to me and to let me know that she was happy to help me out in any way she could. I was not only surprised to hear that she had been through a tough pregnancy experience (she does, after all, have two healthy kids who are just 2 years apart), but I was extremely touched that she would reach out to me and offer whatever comforting words she could. That's what has been so uplifting about this whole situation: So many people have shared their personal stories of hardship with me, with the purpose of encouraging me to believe that everything will work out in the end. By sharing her story's happy ending, this Mom allowed me to keep the faith and find comfort in knowing that I am not alone. A simple act of kindness, perhaps, but an extraordinary start to my Monday.

This afternoon, I resumed my exercise routine on the treadmill. It has been about 4 months since I last worked out (with a handful of yoga classes here and there). I am feeling physically well, less than a week following surgery. I want to feel strong and healthy. I want to feel physically able. It felt amazing to get my heart-rate up and to feel my muscles working hard. My body has been so resilient over the past year. It hasn't failed me yet, but rather has performed reliably in the face of great strain and manipulation. For that, I am truly thankful.