Every time someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up, I immediately answered “A ballet teacher”. I still remember the music to the pre-primary ballet syllabus. It was what I loved to do most. It was where I wanted to be. I aced my grades (and my tutu en-pointe on stage).
Growing up, I always imagined my own little girl one day stepping into my shoes.
Then my first daughter, Anika, was born. She was born with Spina Bifida and is a wheelchair user. She’s absolutely amazing and adventurous. She loves swimming, has done horseback riding, wheelchair basketball, tennis, ice hockey… but not ballet.
I fell pregnant again with my second daughter, Esti, and immediately imagined her en-pointe on stage, but when I was 20 weeks pregnant, the doctor told us that she had a severe heart condition. If she survived, chances were good that she would undergo a series of heart operations. My dreams of my little ballerina have shattered yet again. She only lived 2 days – 2 very precious days.
A year ago, I wrote a post on Facebook, saying that I’ll never dance again, because Anika won’t be able to dance with me. How naive.
My Father knew better, he knows my heart. I’m sure He grinned when I published that post. I didn’t realize then how my mourning would turn into dancing again! I realized that Anika lives a full life – her spirit dances while Esti dances in heaven.
My spirit needed to dance again, too. For God, for my children, for my husband, for myself, and for everyone around me.
We settled down in a small coastal town after 3 years of full-time travel. I joined a group of amazing ladies for an adult ballet class and decided to keep on dancing until it doesn’t hurt anymore. Emotionally, I’m healing. But for the record, physically it still hurts A LOT to dance again after so many years!
Never say never.
Ps. 30:11 – You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy,
