“What makes the difference between wishing and realizing our wishes? Lots of things, and it may take months or years for wish to come true, but it’s far more likely to happen when you care so much about a wish that you’ll do all you can to make it happen.” ~ Fred Rogers
Mel has a beautiful post today about the nature of wishes. Whether it’s correct or not, I love her aunt’s explanation of mazel: Luck is about being in the right place at the right time doing the right thing.
In just a few weeks, we’ll be returning to the clinic. There will be tests for infectious diseases and saline sonograms. There will be poking and prodding. Underlying it all will be the overwhelming sadness that, instead of caring for our two beautiful children and rapidly putting the years of infertility treatment behind us, we are having to go through this all again. I thought we were lucky last summer. I guess we weren’t at the right place or the right time. My wish? I’m not sure I have it in me to wish anymore. I’m afraid to hope. The fall is just too hard from those heights. I’d like to believe Mr. Rogers, I really would. I mean, if you can’t trust Mr. Rogers…. I’m just not sure. I’ve done everything I can to make this wish happen. I’ll continue to do so until, for one reason or another, we can’t anymore. I just can’t shake this feeling that I’m trying to fill the Grand Canyon with pebbles.
My wish? To fill this empty space in my heart, in my life. To finally find a way to set this grief down. I wish the brief moments of pure joy from the moment I knew I was pregnant until Lennox and Zoe were gone could replace the moments of terror and saddness and fear. I wish every good day didn’t come with the thought of “How long will this last before the trip back to The Pit?”
The right place.
The right time.
Doing the right thing.
Accept what I can control and let the rest be.
I’m afraid I’ve never been very good at that. I can accept what I can control. I just always seem to struggle with the fact that I can’t control all of it. There are always more what-ifs than there are answers. And, after all, my last wish did come true. I got pregnant. I guess I just wasn’t specific enough. Now, I wonder, what’s the point. My deepest wish can never come true. Wishes never undo the past.
Hope has two beautiful daughters. Their names are anger and courage; anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain the way they are. ~Aurelius Augustine; St. Augustine of Hippo (13 November 354 – 20 August 430)