10 months ago, when we decided to get certified for adoption rather than pursuing further infertility treatments, I had hope to spare! And then we went to an adoption orientation and explained that we would be moving to Chicago in exactly a year, and the adoption agency employees discouraged us from becoming certified in Arizona because the liklihood of us getting certified and being chosen by a birth mother before we moved to Chicago was next to nothing.
That night I experienced the heart-wrenching feelings of no hope. I will never forget that night. I questioned everything, including my faith, my trust in God, my marriage, my purpose in life, and hope was lost.
If there was one day that summed up my years of infertility in one 24-hour period, it was that day. Going into the agency was exhilarating, and coming out I felt deflated. Infertility in a nutshell.
Later that night, I finally fell asleep with tear stained cheeks and anger in my heart. But sleep was good to me that night. I had pleasant dreams and a rejuvenation of spirit that I attribute directly to a husband who never left my side and to a Heavenly Father who knows who I am. When I woke up I told Collin "we're doing adoption, no matter what they say".
He supported me and we drove right back to the agency and began our certification. It wasn't 3 months later that we were certified, and 4 months after that we met Makenzie.
I often think back on that awful night of despair and think, what if I hadn't felt those terrible hopeless feelings? Would I have been so adamant about getting certified the next day? I don't know. What I do know is this;
Infertility is hard. And in so many cases, and at the end of so many days, leaves you feelings so, so hopeless. But I promise you, and I know this to be true, that hopelessness is a part of happiness, and at the end of every hopeless tunnel, there is HOPE. I know there is always, always, always hope. No matter where you are in your infertility battle, or in any battle for that matter, there is hope.
We aren't in charge of life's timing, of infertility, or really of most things. But we can be in charge of hope. My mom always says "things will be better in the morning", and that was not only true for me on that sad, lonely night, but it is true for me each and every day.
There is always, always hope.
Keep trying, keep praying, keep having hope.
To read one of my favorite talks on hope, go here. No matter what your beliefs, I promise it is worth your time.