As my partner and I approach the new year, we reflect on our journey toward parenthood, a path we embarked on back in 2011. This journey has been filled with profound losses that I could never have anticipated when we first decided to start a family. People often ask how we maintain our hope amidst such sorrow. As we bid farewell to 2016 and look toward 2017, I find myself contemplating the essence of hope—the kind that inspires us to take action and drive change. This is what so many of us are yearning for as we step into the uncertain terrain of the new year.
To 2017, I resolve to cultivate that hope.
Just over two years ago, my partner and I left the hospital one morning after giving birth to our son. Unlike the typical discharge narratives filled with excitement and joy, our ride home was steeped in silence. Our son had been stillborn due to a rare congenital condition. Though our compassionate nurses offered us the option to stay as long as we needed, I felt a profound fear that if we didn’t leave that morning, I might never leave at all.
That drive home was a tormenting experience, made even longer by the rush-hour traffic in Boston. I remember shutting my eyes, overwhelmed by the normalcy surrounding us. How could everyone else be sipping coffee and heading to their jobs while we were engulfed in such unimaginable grief?
Fast forward a couple of years, and my partner and I boarded a flight from Kansas back to Boston, once again expecting to be accompanied by our newborn son. I had prepared for the journey with every conceivable infant carrier and imagined the flight attendants cooing over our little one. Yet, the birth mother who had chosen us to adopt her child changed her mind just before his arrival, deciding to parent him herself. So once more, we returned to our quiet home, the nursery still waiting, just the two of us in the silence.
Between these two heart-wrenching trips were countless IVF cycles, miscarriages, and the weight of difficult decisions. Yet, despite it all, we continue to nurture our hope.
“Hope” is often categorized as both a noun and a verb, but this classification falls short of capturing the essence of the hope I speak of. As a noun, hope feels abstract—if you asked different people to define it, you’d receive a myriad of vague answers. Meanwhile, “hope” as a verb often comes across as passive—hoping for favorable weather or that your kids sleep in. This kind of hope can lead to resentment when reality doesn’t align with our wishes.
True hope and the act of fighting are deeply interconnected. Hope without action can lead to a passive expectation of good outcomes, while fighting without hope feels overwhelming and defeating. However, fighting alongside hope embodies a steadfast belief in a better future and a willingness to endure more pain to achieve it.
A striking parallel exists between the loss of our son and the adoption falling through; both experiences unfolded over approximately the same time span. Our son was diagnosed with a terminal condition early in the second trimester and passed away 100 days later. For those days, we loved him fiercely, knowing we would never raise him, yet each heartbeat we listened to gave us a reason to hope for a miracle.
In a similar way, we loved the child we were set to adopt for 100 days, whispering goodnight prayers from afar. Then, without warning, it was over—no closure, no ceremony.
Living one day at a time is crucial during a crisis, yet when it comes to making significant decisions about our dream of parenthood, stepping back to gain perspective is essential. As my partner and I are in our 30s, the thought of potentially living another 20,000 days without children fills us with sadness more profound than the losses we’ve faced. Choosing to abandon hope today would only lead to greater pain in the future. Thus, we persist in our fight for the hope of becoming parents, leaning on our loved ones and faith to navigate the tough moments.
This brand of hope—fueled by perspective—is what I aim to embody in all areas of my life throughout 2017.
In the aftermath of the recent election, I came across a powerful essay by one of my favorite authors, Miguel Torres. He stated, “All the fighting in the world will not help us if we do not also hope.” He spoke of “radical hope,” which is directed toward a future goodness that may be beyond our current understanding. This kind of hope is not merely something we possess; it is a practice that requires flexibility and imaginative excellence. Radical hope stands as a powerful antidote to despair, even when despair feels justified.
As we step into 2017, it’s vital to cling to our ambitious goals in the face of adversity, to set new aspirations with vigor, and to fight alongside radical hope to achieve them. Throughout our quest for parenthood, moments of despair have been plentiful, but we’ve survived our worst days and continue to fight because we refuse to relinquish hope.
Here’s to 2017—a year in which we battle together, hand in hand with hope.
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In summary, 2017 is not just a year for hope but a year to actively fight for our dreams and aspirations. Through reflection and resilience, we can navigate the complexities of this journey together.