When just starting out on a new journey, it’s only natural to feel vulnerable. After all, it may seem that you have much to lose. But may I remind you that never again, at any other point in your journey, will you have so much to gain as you will if you start today?
Trusting that someday there will be an end to infertility, or to any major life suffering, is a task that we all–in our human condition–face. In order to wake to a new day, to pursue a new treatment, a new path through adoption, or even a new life without a child, means that we must dig down and find our well of trust.
A few nights ago I watched a special about an adoption attorney who had fleeced hundreds of couples, out of thousands of dollars, promising babies from birthmothers who never existed. I watched this special just days after making the decision with my husband that we were ready to consider every option in front of us, and to begin moving forward–with trust. I never should have watched that special.
We live in a world where fear is fed to us like the hungry lion pacing the fence at the Bronx zoo. We are dished out one reason to be terrified, followed by another, and yet another. We live in a world that reminds us of the rocky cliffs that only lead to crashing, drowning, waters below.
Yes, there are times we crash onto the rocks, and man does it hurt. Yet in our crashing, when we trust that we will survive the bashing, we are pushed out of the undertow and on to the dry, soft sand of the shores of tomorrow.
Watching that awful show could have fed the lion of fear, which then would have devoured my dreams. However, choosing to let the lion pace, and heading over to see the monkey’s playfully frolicking amongst the trees, feels so much better.
And so, I let go of the fear and renewed my friendship with trust. This morning an email appeared from a dear friend, who knew nothing about our decision, offering her crib, changing table, and lamb bedding–free of charge–because their little ones were no longer little enough for either.
Trusting that someday there will be an end to our infertility, to our suffering, is truly one of the most difficult things one human being can do. Yet when we stand face-to-face with the choice to throw ourselves over the fence and into the mouth of the lion called fear, or to walk away and swing from the trees of trust with the monkeys, I know which place I would rather be.
Trust. One day, this too shall pass.