Revisiting...

On this day last year, I wrote a little post called "Whispers of Hope."  I never could have imagined how much it would touch people.  It was one of those days that I didn't know what to write - the kids probably hadn't done anything special (as if that's even possible) - so I wrote about what I was feeling in that moment.

I'm not sure why this particular post struck a nerve... but 1,745 people have read it.  That's mind blowing to me.  And the mail I got specifically referencing that post over this year has touched me so much.  Everyone's journey to their family is so unique and I really love hearing your stories.  And, as always, I'm grateful that you care about mine...

So I went back and re-read this post - Whispers of Hope - and decided it was worth another day, one year later.  As I sit here today I don't know what I believe - what I feel - or what's in store for our family.  But I do know this - hope is something I'll never lose.

Thank you for caring about our family!

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Whispers of Hope...

This morning, standing at our sinks in the bathroom, Ed and I realized what day it was. July 7th. He reminded me that our friends were married on 7/7/07 four years ago. Which then reminded us both that I went to their wedding pregnant with Gavin.

This is me on their wedding day just before we left the house...

I was so big and so happy and so hopeful.

That day seems like yesterday to me. I remember going to Nordstrom that morning and pretending that I was interested in buying makeup so I could get someone to make me up for the wedding. (I'm rather clueless in that department!) I remember dancing with Ed and telling him that we wouldn't have that many more "night's out" before Gavin arrived.

Truer words had never been spoken. We could never have known what was ahead for us and our family.

It seems like yesterday that THIS photo was taken.

We spent every day in the NICU from the minute they opened the doors to the evening when we would be told to go home. I was so hopeful. I just knew he'd be fine and every day I thought he would be discharged. I could not have known that this was just the beginning of a long, difficult journey.

It seems like yesterday that this was in my routine. Holding a teeny tiny baby boy named Brian who breastfed perfectly and was easy to soothe.

Brian's arrival was filled with hope. We were so happy to have a little brother for Gavin. Although it was hard to juggle an infant and a medically fragile one year old, I just knew we were on the right path. I knew that things would be okay. I was sure that Gavin would benefit from having a sibling to grow up with.

It seems like yesterday I was pregnant with Darcy.

I thought I had won the lottery. Two sons and now a daughter. After losing so many pregnancies, I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I passed that first trimester with little to no issues. I had such hope - I started envisioning hair bows and dresses... girl talk and getting manicures together. I even started hating her future husband...just as I hate Gavin and Brian's future wives. (Just kidding. Sort of.) And then, I lost her.

It seems like yesterday that I was pregnant again and so hopeful.

I thought this baby was surely sent from Heaven and Darcy had something to do with it. Hope can make you think up some pretty interesting scenarios. Just as soon as we found out he was a third son...he was gone.

Since then, we have tried. And tried. And tried. Those who have gone through a struggle to conceive know that it is emotionally trying. Those who haven't will just have to believe me. Through the last four years I have had one common theme. I have refused to stop hoping. And my hoping is more like believing. I believe that Gavin will be okay. I believe that Brian will talk soon. I believe that our daughter's life was meant to teach us something. And I believe that a third child is meant to be in this family. I know it like I know my name.

When the world says, "Give up,"

Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."

~Author Unknown