The Power of Hope

I recently asked John about the day our future changed. He decided to write it down so that one day we could look back on this time in our lives and see how far we come. Here is what he had to say...


For as long as I can remember, I have been a glass is half full kinda person. My life is not perfect, but I would argue that it was close. I have an amazing wife, a beautiful home, a great job, and family and friends that anyone would envy. It was always easy to have hope; Hope for the future, hope for what our life would hold. Even as we had began to struggle with the process of starting a family, I still was full of hope. At times it got me in trouble, as the last thing you want to hear after another month goes by is "have faith honey ... it will happen, I know it". I learned quickly of when to keep my hope to myself, and when to share it. Even as the months dragged on, and approached a year, I still had hope. The glass might not have been half full, but at least we had a glass, and o such a pretty glass isn't it. I mean come on, statistics were on our side. At some point, it would happen, and the longer it didn't, the more likely each passing month became. Given long enough flipping a coin, it can't come up tails forever.

In the passing of less then 5 seconds, it all changed. Hope was shattered. My view on life was shattered. I was broken. Hearing those words out of our doctors mouth, that there was no hope of starting a family via "normal" methods, crushed me. Its like the rose color glasses were slapped with such force from my face that I didn't care to open my eyes. I didn't want to think about the future, as a future without hope, isn't much of a future. Its only looking back now, weeks behind me, that I can see the Power of Hope and the devastation that is caused when you lose it. As we went home, my hope gone, the darkness swept in like a thick fog. What if's begin flooding my head, and I was too weak to fight them off. What if we can't afford IVF? What if we can afford it, but then we can't afford actually having a child because of it? What if we spend thousands and it still doesn't work? What if adoption is our only option? What if we can't adopt? What if we adopted but our adopted children didn't love us? What if in those five seconds ... our entire future was transformed. The picture of my wife, with a child on her hip and they both cheered watching daddy play soccer or getting to snuggle on Saturday mornings before having mickey mouse pancakes was morphed into 1000 fears about what if's.

I couldn't keep up a strong front, and broke sobbing into my wifes arms. I can't remember the last time I cried, the last time that I have hurt. Not like cuts and bruises, but I mean a kind of pain when your soul is screaming in agony. I'm lucky ... because my wife was much stronger then me. She helped me to deal, and cope and move forward. Its not about knowing the plan right now, but instead, about taking each day one at a time. In those 5 seconds, I learned the power of hope, and the pain of losing it.