Happily ever after and the folly of hopelessness.

So, there's something funny about how life goes. When you think everything is impossible, and nothing will ever be okay again, somehow, everything changes.

This isn't a new topic. I've hashed it and rehashed it a lot lately. I'm okay with beating a dead horse a little just now. The reason? I know that it's hard to be hopeful when you feel like nothing is going right, and everything you want in your life has either slipped through your fingers or could never be anyway. And I know that there are people who might read this who feel that way right now.

I'm not typically the Pollyanna type, but I want to put it out there in the world that when it seems like everything is at its darkest, things can change. I think that's always the hardest thing to believe, but hopefully it's more believable when it comes from the voice of someone who has truly been there. I know I never believe in anything like hope when it comes from someone who appears to always be riding the wave of "okay."

As I sit here watching my two-week-old daughter snoozing away in her swing, listening to some baby-modified Depeche Mode, I believe in hope. And as my husband of 18 years today sits in a room working at a desk where I can see him this Sunday morning, I believe things can be very good. Less than a year ago, I wouldn't have believed it, and there wasn't anyone telling me any different--or at least I didn't hear them if they were.

Every mom believes their kid is an angel, but for me, it's true.

There are days, as a new mom, when I feel like I'm not ever going to get it right. There are moments she cries for seemingly no reason. They're short-lived, and I'm probably too hard on myself about it, but when you've waited so long for her and you didn't believe you would ever have her, I think you go crazier about everything being perfect in her space.

This is the challenge of my day-to-day now. A year ago, it would have been getting out of bed and facing days of work and feelings of failure. A year ago, it would have been a sinking feeling of desperation about what the future might hold, and the only things that kept my head above water were my husband and my dog. Thank the higher power my agnostic brain doesn't quite believe in for those two, or who knows....

So, finding a place where I cry from joy and where I believe that a year from now, things will be even more joyful and fun than they are now is a giant leap, and more than I ever imagined my life could be.

Life isn't always about getting everything we want. Sometimes we can't achieve our goals, no matter how much effort, focus and passion we put into them. It's hard to accept that maybe we have set the wrong goals for ourselves and that we have to change directions to find happiness, or even just quiet contentment. Life isn't always about having our ducks in a row. It's great to think that things are going to go according to plan and follow a certain order that we have detailed in our minds, but a lot of times, it just doesn't happen that way.

By now, I imagined myself in a career where I was respected and "in charge" of something. I believed the work, effort, focus and passion I put into what I was doing "earned" that. But I set the wrong goals for myself. I couldn't have known that until everything changed. I always imagined that if we were going to have a child or children that we would have done it ten years ago. But we just kept doing other things that were easier, and that gave us quick hits of happiness that seemed to keep us going while we failed to achieve all the wrong goals.

The obstacles to achieving the wrong goals and all of the unhappiness we felt from being in places where we couldn't thrive were the smaller bumps in the road, and they just weren't enough to shake us out of our comfort zones so we could find where we needed to be and start setting the right goals. Sometimes, a freight train (or two, or even three) has to come plowing through an already broken existence and fling everything in all directions for change to occur. Sometimes, as hard as it is, you have to wake up at rock bottom and be forced to dig your way back up.

And when you're there at the bottom, in the coldest place you can possibly imagine, sometimes you are surprised by what your life can become. In the scariest moments, we are sometimes given the hope we never believed existed. And everything about that hope feels like it was meant to be, no matter how uncertain the circumstance in which you find yourself.

It's when you believe all is lost, that you stop looking for the things you don't truly want or need. And in that brilliant moment when you accept that you aren't going to find the things you don't truly want or need, you suddenly find everything you were supposed to.

In the last nine and a half months, I found a love that was right there in front of me all the time, and it renewed itself like magic. And we had the little girl I had given up hope of ever having.

Neither one of these things would have been possible living the way I was before. In the depths of despair, you can't believe what is possible. But today, without reservation, I can tell you that no matter how bad your heart feels, things can change. Other people will tell you that it's all up to you, and that you have to make things change. But I know for a fact that sometimes you find yourself in a place where you can barely lift your head, let alone make change. You can spin your wheels in the same direction forever before realizing you're in the wrong gear. Even in that place, everything is possible.

Just after Willow was born, a dear friend posted a quote by Roald Dahl on my Facebook Timeline:

Mr. Wonka: "Don't forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he wanted."
Charlie Bucket: "What happened?"
Mr. Wonka: "He lived happily ever after."

We don't always expect that we are going to get everything we ever wanted, and sometimes, even a slice of those things seems impossible. But when we hold on--just a little bit longer, and just a little bit tighter--great things can happen. I'm not telling anyone it's easy or that it happens when you want it to. But I want anyone who is out there feeling like it never can to know that it truly can. Believing in hope is hard, so I'm not asking you to. But try not to give up on believing in yourself, even when it gets really hard. If you lose yourself, you could lose everything.


Walk On--U2

It's all true--every single cliche.

So, I got a message from a friend today. She was thanking me (us) for time spent with our little family yesterday. She told me that sometimes dreams come true. My response to that was that sometimes when they do, they are even better than you originally dreamed them.

All the cliches about becoming a parent are true. Over the years, I have rolled my eyes at all of them a million times. The oh so over said "it's different when it's your own child." The completely trite "being a mom is unlike anything else you will ever do." The wistfully declared "being a parent is the greatest love you will ever know." All of them, and so many more--completely true. Amazing how quickly you learn this. It's only been eight days.

I think one of the results of learning that all the cliches are true is finally understanding why everyone has words of wisdom, advice, guidance and a cliche or two to share with you at every step along the way of becoming a parent. One of the other very commonly spoken phrases I heard as I was finding myself in labor at the end of last week was "it's different for everyone." At the time, I was very annoyed with that one. I just wanted to know if what I thought was happening really was. Needless to say, it was.

Our brand new family.

I spent about twenty-four hours in non-progressive labor. I wanted Willow out, but she couldn't make it without help. Ultimately, I landed in an operating room with my husband at by my side. After an impossibly fast minute--maybe two--our Willow made her entrance into the world screaming "la" at the top of her lungs. Her daddy and I were overcome with joy. That sound was like church bells. And even though we aren't subscribers, I think we were both thankful to know so quickly that she was healthy.

It was hard to be separated from the two of them as they whisked me off to recovery for nearly an hour, but Jeph made a point to catch up with the bed on which I was wheeled away to let me know everything was okay with our girl.

I've made it no secret here that it was a long and bumpy road to getting Willow here. We lost a pregnancy almost two years ago. I had approached becoming a mom in a rather nonchalant and only semi-committed mind-set up to that point. It was all the horrible moments associated with that loss that helped me understand that if you wanted to be a mom, you had to really mean it. Maybe that's why some higher power decided we weren't ready. That lesson took me down a path of crazy that most of my friends know all to well and luckily a few have forgiven me for. It was hard to wait for a chance to try again. It was just as hard to go each month trying, wishing, failing and recovering. And of course, as a dear friend of mine who suffers from fertility issues found, when you want most in the world to be pregnant, everyone else around you is. It's not fair to be envious, but when your heart is broken, seemingly beyond repair, it's easy to slip into being human, and at times, even a little sub-human.

As much as I wanted our baby, pregnancy was not any fun for me. I was unable to eat much throughout much of the time. I dropped weight--which is a good thing. I was unhealthily heavy before my pregnancy. But it was still a pretty miserable time. Our lives turned upside down with a massive career change for my husband and a move for our family. All of the downs and the little steps toward righting things brought the two of us much closer together than we ever had been. At times, especially toward the end of my pregnancy, I spent days in sorrowful anticipation that our time as a couple was drawing to a close. What if this massive change took away something from that special relationship we had? What if, deep down, I was still too selfish to understand this massive gift? I was more than a little bit frightened.

Last Sunday night, we found ourselves in a hospital room with a one-day old who was so upset that we were at our wits' end. What if we couldn't get her to calm down? And this was only night two. As I paced with her in my arms like a zombie, I too, started to cry. It's true--I was exhausted. I was in terrible pain and just putting one foot in front of the other was a struggle. I wanted to sleep so badly. But in the midst of this, only one thought popped into my head: I would do anything to be able to give this little girl whatever it was she needed to know that she was safe, loved, and wanted. I would do anything to make whatever was upsetting her so go away. Nothing else mattered at all.

It was almost like the entire universe had doors with giant, heavy locks on them until that moment. Somehow that thought was all it took to open them and I understood everything about everything.

Becoming a parent really is the greatest love that you will ever know, because it erases every pain, every struggle, every selfish thought you've ever had from existence. No path is the same--it really is different for everyone. And as I have found myself already doing things I thought I could never do for her, I understand that it is different when it's your child.

All the cliches are true. Everything that every mom ever says is true--ten times over.

Dreams do come true, and sometimes they really are even better than you ever dreamed they would be. 

Sweetest Thing--U2