One of the fond memories I have as a kid was of a guy at the roller skating rink wearing a giant balloon hat making balloon animals.  Mostly he just made wiener dogs or poodles, but I was still excited to have one nonetheless.  Recently we went to the movies and before the show our little one saw a man making balloon animals (much more sophisticated than when I was little).  Her eyes lit as she happened upon a unicorn and her father shelled out an exorbitant $7 for her to have it.  She loved her; I saw how much joy she brought her, how tenderly she held her, and how she named her with great care.  I suppose I took balloon animals for granted, since I always got them so easily.  I realized with some surprise my little one had never really had a balloon animal before.  It’s a bit of a childhood microcosm for the adulthood macrocosm of when people who have a child so easily are blithely unaware of the struggle others go through in trying to have a baby.  English actress Thandie Newton said:

“Then I became a mother and it just fills every space, that isn’t filled with something else important.  It’s just like this incredible balloon that blows up and fills life up.”

And so from child to mother, I know the happiness a balloon animal can bring.  More importantly, from child to mother I know how special and rare it is to have a baby at 41; how every space in my life has filled up like an incredible balloon.  It is indescribable … sort of like happening upon a unicorn.