Hope Found

The little face that gives me renewed hope each morning.

Two years ago, nearly two years to the day before Lily was born, I wrote this post about the pain of losing hope in a future I had always dreamed of. I think about that post often because the walk I describe in it has been such a symbolic one for me throughout the past two years. I have walked around the paths surrounding our neighborhood while grieving the pain of a miscarriage, while celebrating the prospect of a new treatment cycle, while feeling the discouragement of another negative pregnancy test, while talking quietly to the growing Button in my belly. And today, with the burst of spring weather at long last, with the bright sunshine that has come after such a long, cold winter, I finally walked while pushing Lily--our miraculous little daughter.

Right now, I am struck by how many of my dear friends are in places where hope has failed them before. One is today meeting with a specialist to go over the plan moving forward from her most recent miscarriage, two are anxiously awaiting the outcome of the treatment cycles they're currently in the midst of, others are patiently walking through the next steps in journeys to adoption or fostering. All of these women and men deserve to be parents--have hoped and prayed and longed to be parents--and yet are in a holding pattern of waiting, wondering if hope will find or elude them this time.

If you're reading this today and feeling a dearth of hope, please don't think for one moment that I'm writing platitudes, telling you that it will all work out perfectly, that the job/house/spouse/baby will arrive exactly how you want it to and the way you've always dreamed, that bumpy roads lead to the best outcomes because they're so much more worth it, that Lily's smiley face at the top of this post should make you feel all better. While some of those things may be true, all of them aren't--and certainly not for all people in all circumstances. However, the only story I can tell--the only story this blog can tell--is mine. And this story--happily, joyfully--is one of hope found after hope lost, one of hope renewed after hope shattered.

I hope and pray yours is, too.