2 years.

11 Feb

ginko leaves

Two years ago today, on February 11th, 2010, my life dramatically changed.  In the matter of an hour, the innocence I had once held, was stolen from me in a rush of blood.  I went on to experience an all-encompassing grief that I had yet to know.  It’s taken me two years and two additional losses to even come close to recovering from that night.  And in many ways, I know I never fully will, nor do I want to.  It’s too much a part of who I am now.  Of who I’ve become.

I had lost a pregnancy prior to then, but I lost it before I even knew there was something to lose.  And for me, that made all the difference in the world.  I was sad, but was able to move on quickly because I figured it was just a fluke.  As soon as I got that positive pregnancy test that next January, the hope of what was to come, took me over.  We were going to have a baby.  Everything else that had once mattered, no longer did.  That was it.  And now as I look to becoming pregnant for the fifth time in the next coming months, that hope that was once there has been been squashed, trampled, twisted and abused.  Left out in the cold and unloved.  I fear hope possibly more than I fear another loss.

Because with hope, the fall is so much further.

But it creeps in, no matter how hard I push it away.  That’s what happens when you want a family with every ounce of your soul.  Hope is a resilient little thing, constantly finding the cracks in your hand-built cement wall.

Except I’m onto you, hope.  I know you change forms and wear masks.  I know that if hope of a baby of our own doesn’t happen, that the hope will change paths.  I will create an entirely new hope for an entirely different road, one that might bring happiness in a different form.  That’s the difference between now and then, that’s what 2 years and 4 losses has given me.  And if the hope of a baby from Tim and I is taken away for a fifth time, I’ll be ready to follow it in a new direction.  I’ll succumb to the loss of this dream for the chance of a new one.  I wasn’t ready two years ago today.  I wasn’t ready to face a plan that was bigger than my plan.  I wasn’t ready to let go.

I’m proud of the woman this experience has forced me to become.  I’m stronger and more compassionate – not just of others, but finally, of myself.  I’ve learned to let go of the control in this space, I finally know it’s out of my hands.  And if that took two years and four losses to get to, I’m thankful for it finally arriving.

Because there is a plan bigger than my plan.  And I’m ready to believe in it.

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20 Responses to “2 years.”

  1. Bonnie Dean February 11, 2012 at 12:17 pm #

    Prayers for you.

  2. Daryl February 11, 2012 at 12:37 pm #

    I can’t even imagine all you’ve been through, and I so admire your strength. Hope isn’t the only thing that’s resilient. You are, too.

  3. Tracy February 11, 2012 at 12:46 pm #

    I love the last sentence you wrote. That sums up exactly what I wanted to say. Hugs for you xox

  4. Will CarryOn February 11, 2012 at 1:15 pm #

    “Because with hope, the fall is so much further.” Wow, is this true. I completely understand what you mean, and how in spite of it all, we have to hang on to hope in one form or another. Ours is definitely an evolution. And thank you for reminding the rest of us, that we have a lot to be proud of in our strength, courage and ability to push forward.

  5. RAchel February 11, 2012 at 2:55 pm #

    “Because there is a plan bigger than my plan.  And I’m ready to believe in it.”

    Amen. Love you.

  6. Linda February 11, 2012 at 3:22 pm #

    Your Bam would be so proud of how strong a woman you have become. But she would be no prouder than we are of who you are.and how much we love you!! Please keep the hope alive because we are right there with you all the way holding your heart!! We love you with all our hearts and soul!! Love, Mom and Dad

  7. Kelly February 11, 2012 at 4:13 pm #

    Beautiful post.

  8. Justine February 11, 2012 at 6:59 pm #

    I wish I had known you, Februaries ago. I know what you mean by fearing hope … but you’re right about it coming anyway. It is a determined creature. And it thrives among friends, as you have here. This is a brave post, and a brave and beautiful voice.

  9. Cablearms February 11, 2012 at 7:04 pm #

    i carry your heart in me. i carry it in my heart…

    ~ ee cummings
    xoxo

  10. missohkay February 12, 2012 at 6:12 am #

    God, this post made me cry. “I will create an entirely new hope for an entirely different road.” If it comes to this, it will be satisfying. It doesn’t answer the questions or take away the grief but it does create a new parallel path to happiness. Whichever path you take, I hope you reach your destination soon. (Our first losses were four days apart. It would have been comforting to know you then.)

  11. Janet February 12, 2012 at 6:11 pm #

    You are an amazing young woman and we are so proud of you.You have such a beautiful gift for writing. Our thoughts and prayers are with you always.

  12. Esperanza February 12, 2012 at 9:04 pm #

    As I already told you, this post brought me to tears.

    I love you. You know the rest. That is all.

  13. jjiraffe February 12, 2012 at 9:50 pm #

    As always, your words leave me deeply moved by their compassion, strength, realism and yet idealism.

    What an incredible woman you are, and I feel so lucky to know you. Xoxo

  14. Karen February 13, 2012 at 6:23 am #

    This is so very inspiring, Courtney. You are such a light.

  15. Tee February 13, 2012 at 10:11 pm #

    Infertility robs us of alot. The joy of baby making becomes a myth. To have suffered so many losses, I just feel for you. But you must be very strong to keep going as you do. I have suffered 2 mc’s in my life, but a healthy son inbetween. I hold hope so tight I think I’m a hope hoarder. Stay strong..

  16. Ren Rubinstein @ PharmaMama.net February 14, 2012 at 1:18 am #

    “Because with hope, the fall is so much further” This is so true, but what is life without hope? i love that you have found the silver lining for your experiences, that they have made you stronger.
    All the best

  17. Emily @ablanket2keep February 14, 2012 at 9:16 pm #

    Your strength gives me hope.

  18. Kristen February 15, 2012 at 8:14 am #

    Your post is so lovely. You are so incredibly strong!
    Hugs on this anniversary…these dates can be so hard…
    XOXO

  19. Port of Indecision February 22, 2012 at 7:53 am #

    What beautiful post.

  20. kat July 8, 2013 at 11:38 am #

    I one day hope to be as strong as you are. This post is beautiful, and raw. I’m going through my 3rd miscarriage today and the quote “Because with hope, the fall is so much further” rings true to me today. I’m glad your story has a happy ending….it gives me hope when I thought I lost all hope today.

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