Heather Simonsen is a published author and former magazine and newspaper writer who has appeared in O, The Oprah Magazine and The New York Times. She was a spokesperson for the 2002 Olympic Torch Relay and an honorary torchbearer. A former award-winning television news reporter, she shares her chic mid-century modern home in Salt Lake City with her husband, an eco-friendly architect and City Councilman, and two beautiful children. She and her husband are expecting a baby girl at the end of the summer.
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I am not known for my patience. My mother, through tears of laughter, loves to tell the story of me as a toddler in my ruffled dress, matching socks and Mary Janes. I wanted my socks off but not my shoes. My mother began removing my shoes, trying to reason with me that to remove my socks, the shoes would have to come off first. I wanted nothing to do with it and continued screaming for her to take off my socks, not my shoes. This story has become a part of family lore.
The other day on my morning walk that has become my reprieve from a difficult pregnancy I listened to Mary Chapin Carpenter on The Diane Rehm Show. Amidst puddles of water from snowmelt, and iced spring blossoms, the lyrics to her newest song THE AGE OF MIRACLES touched me. You think you're just standing still/One day you'll get up that hill/In the age of miracles/There's one on the way. I nearly wept.
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We were ready for our third baby five years ago but had difficulty getting pregnant. My perfect picture of life wasn't happening. Through many prayers, pregnancy tests, a surgery, and patience, we have been blessed with a healthy baby girl on the way. I didn't ever think I would be pregnant again at 40, with kids on the cusp of becoming teenagers, but I'm finding that there are such advantages. I'm older and wiser, and better able to appreciate the miracle of childbearing. My kids are mature enough to already dote on the baby and love her with abandon. They both rub my tummy each night and talk with her. They write in her journal about how much they love her. It is tender and sweet. The other night my son sat on the bed next to me, his blue eyes wide, the waning light from the sunset outside our window. His voice was genuine and full of excitement. “I just cannot wait to meet her,” he said.
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I'm also working on the fourth rewrite of my novel, BORROWING LIGHT, pursuing my dream of obtaining a New York publisher for my work. This dream has not come to fruition on my timetable either, but there have many gifts along the way. I have found lifelong friends in other writers, and planted seeds of friendship with several literary agents, and learned something new every day as I work hard to finish this novel. I don't know when this big miracle will happen for me, but I know it will. I'm doing everything I can to help it along.
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One day I'll get up that hill. I'll get the call from my literary agent that a top publisher wants my manuscript. I'll weep, and sing, and dance with my kids and my husband while holding my baby on my hip, grateful for dreams and miracles, and for the lessons I've learned along the way. And for patience, yes, the patience my mother tried to teach me long ago.
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Do you ever feel like you are standing still, but when you look back you realize that all along you were moving up the hill that is your dream?