The few times every year when I am so lucky to have my mom in town, she often offers to watch my daughter one or two mornings while I escape to Starbucks with a good book. Yesterday was one of those mornings. And it was so nice to have some time to myself. I ordered the largest coffee I could, not caring for once about the overload of caffeine in it, and escaped into another world as I read quietly while sitting in my favorite chair.
But there is a funny thing that often happens on these mornings: I feel the slow and steady rise of hope in my chest. Is it because an hour alone makes me feel so relaxed that my guard is down? Is because I am energized by the caffeine I avoid on every other day? I can’t surely say, but when I am blinded by this hope, there is this crazy thing I do: after I’m done reading and sipping, I will wander down to the Target that is attached to the mall with the Starbucks I have been sitting in, and I will browse the baby section. I will finger the soft fabric of the little fleece shirts and matching pants that can be found so often at this time of year. I will hold the tiny outfit with the little rhino and the words “Tough Guy” close to my heart. I will imagine my baby wearing something so precious, one day. And I will consider, seriously consider, if I should buy the onesie with “I Love Mom” on it in Newborn size. I don’t. I do not yet have the balls or heart to make such a purchase, but there is a moment when I think I might. And even when I just can’t bring myself to do it, I will hope, and briefly believe, that some day I will. I will have a reason to make that purchase.
It is on these mornings that I hold onto the thought that I have been here before, and I can do it again. I. Can. Do. It. I only wish that this sort of courageous hope didn’t leave the moment I walked out the doors of the mall, into the sunlight and the reality of my life.
Waiting to Expand 
This post sounds exactly like something I would write. I know that feeling of euphoric hope very well. There are days I definitely feel that same thing, not necessarily about babies but about other aspects of life. I think it’s these highs that we have that make the lows so low. I’m not a good “regulator” of emotions and seem to have extremes of both. I hope you are able to hold on to a tiny bit of that hope as you leave your happy place 🙂
Even if that feeling of hope is fleeting, even if it only lasts 1 minute- enjoy it. It is those little breaks where we gather a bit more strength, enjoy the NOW, and allow the hope to creep in. Hope is not bad. It can be scary, but it is not bad. And the fact you allow it to come to you like that makes me smile big. You are doing everything perfectly- just try not to second guess what feels right.
I loved Tutti’s last sentence: You are doing everything perfectly. Because you are. We all are. We are doing everything we can to the best of our strength and abilities.
It’s those small moments of hope, however fleeting, that get us through the realities of life. Hold onto that for as long as you can.
Oh this is so wonderful. I’m glad you have hope woman because I have it for you too! Hmmm just gotta find a way to feel what you’re feeling for myself again. 😉 Hugs friend!!! I’m so happy for you!
That little blip of hope is what makes us keep fighting. Such a good feeling when we have it!
Beautiful! Visiting from the Creme.