Hope

     I don't think it's a secret that life can feel hard. Not just for the people dealing with infertility, but for everyone. I know that I, personally, have had moments where life didn't only feel hard...it felt impossible. There were moments, and still are moments, where I wonder how I can possibly thrive and live the full, incredible life that I long for. The answer that keeps presenting itself is hope.

    How does one find hope when life feels hard? I've asked myself this question millions of times. My journey has brought up so many questions. What are holidays, or any celebration, going to look like in my later years? What is my legacy going to look like? Am I going to be lonely? Will anyone care about me in my later years, or will I be the only one who cares about me? What happens when I can't take care of myself? I have many, many more questions. Too many to list.

    Admittedly, I don't have all the answers to all of my questions. I most likely won't have the answers until I come to those hurdles. However, one thing remains. Hope.

    I had been conditioned my whole life to be a mother. I wanted to be a mother. I've been encouraged to be a mother. Even after we announced we were going to be child-free after infertility, we had people encourage us to keep going. These people didn't see what was happening "behind the scenes". They didn't see that I didn't have hope. They didn't see the tears, they couldn't feel my heartache, and they certainly didn't know how worthless I felt. 

    To my surprise, when we decided to stop trying to have children, I felt an inexplicable sense of relief. I could never explain why that relief washed over me. It was like a beautiful tidal wave that washed away all the doubt and fear. Then, I felt hope. Hope that I could be more than a woman who struggled with infertility, and who had a husband who had been diagnosed with a severe form of infertility. Hope that I could find another identity other than the heartbroken, struggling, and completely desolate woman who was constantly longing for a life that wasn't meant for her.

    I had hope that I could reinvent my life. I had hope that I could create a new identity for myself. I had hope that we could get finances back on track after spending far too much time and money on something that was never going to happen. I had hope that I would find a life purpose that didn't involve being a mother. 

    To be clear, not every day has been sunshine and rainbows. I've had some very difficult days this year. I also want to make it clearer that these days weren't impossible to get through. I have changed since I started my journey to have children, and I realized I didn't know who I was anymore. I suddenly had hope that I could find myself back and find all the things I love. 

    Since finding this hope, I've felt stronger and more confident. I've started standing up for myself and have realized what I need to move forward. I recently had a moment of clarity about exactly what I need, and I now know the direction I can move in. 

    So, the question remains. What brings me hope when life feels hard? Knowing that I can create a better life for myself brings me hope. Knowing I can reimagine all of my dreams and turn them into something incredible brings me hope. Knowing I have supportive friends and family members brings me hope. Knowing that the future isn't bleak and that I can create my own future brings me hope. 

    It took me a long time to get here. However, I would highly recommend finding what brings you hope. Finding what brings you light. Finding what fills your cup and brings you joy. If there is one huge life lesson I have learned, it's that life is fleeting, and I want every ounce of life to be joyful. I want to love deeply. I want to laugh so hard I cry. I want to feel moved to dance in the rain and sing with the thunder. And now, I have hope that I will.