On Wednesday morning, I thought about giving up. It was one of those passing thoughts that creep into your consciousness when you least expect it. After my morning bustle consisting of hurried routines of flat irons and coffee, I had a second to relax on my drive in to work. It was a cold morning. I pulled out of my driveway onto a tree-lined street full of empty branches suspended into the sky producing the unceasing reminder that winter is still upon us. And as my car started to cut through the brisk morning air, the thought occurred to me… we could simply give this all up. All of this baby stuff — we could just cease to try.
The thought taunted me as I made my way to work because, truthfully, it sounded enticing. The idea of being granted reprieve from all of this — all of the vitamins, the diets, the charting, the unfulfilled hope, the longing, the disappointment, the discouragement — it sounded freeing. And it was freeing… until I recognized the consequence. Because while the vast majority of people have this inherent ability to effortlessly add to their family tree, we have to fight for the same results — no, we have to go to war for the same results.
And here we are… trudging through the muck and the mire. Day-in, day-out. And it’s on days like these that I only see the battle ahead. I see the impending nights of tears and this chronic disheartened disposition. And I feel the exhaustion — it clings to my tired soul. But then there’s this quiet determination lingering in the background, inching me ever-forward. And so I go. I go with calloused hope and an apprehensive heart, but I go.
I go because the prize at the end is worth being fought for. I go because I know that somehow giving up would mean giving up on you. I go because there’s this deep-seated belief within me, and it reassures me that this fight is not being done in vain. And I think about this fight often. I think about “future me” in a nursery, frazzled by the lack of sleep and tripping over plastic toys, and I know that “future me” will look back at this fight with a smile because there you will be in my arms. And, truthfully, that is all that “present me” needs in order to pull through this — the very thought of you.
And so I go…