There are a few times of the year where I naturally get super reflective about life. One of those times is on or around my birthday every year. It’s usually the time of year where I pull out the journal that I started writing in last year (that made it until about December, because I’m just that inconsistent), and then where I open up a fresh journal to try again for another year.

This is hard this year. Because, looking back, I can see all of the hopes and dreams that I held for this past year:

October 19, 2015

So, what’s in store for thirty one? Where do I stand and what do I hope for in this next year? What do I long for and pray for as the page turns into another year of adventures?

While I certainly hope that the intentionality and friendship of thirty carry into the coming year, I have a real longing in my heart for this to be a year of family–particularly as Scott and I have begun the journey of trying to start a family of our own. This is a recent development in our life together over just the past few months, and I’m finding it to be a very emotional journey for me… so, I am thankful for some very dear friends to walk with, process with, and pray with for this next season of life.

I would love nothing more than to become parents in the course of the next year, if that is in God’s plan and will for us.

We shall see.

In the meantime, I look forward to a year that will write itself in memories and friendships and adventures beyond anything I can dream up tonight.

Well, obviously this past year didn’t turn out as I had hoped. As we had hoped.

I’ve spent a lot of time this morning reading through the journal I started last year on this date. The outside of it is labeled #31derful. Ha! How presumptuous of me.

Oh, and you want to know what date I last wrote in that journal?

December 9, 2015. The day I found out I was pregnant with Alexander. 

I didn’t write anything throughout my pregnancy. I didn’t write about the first ultrasound or about finding out that he was a boy or about feeling the first kicks or about the all day sickness or about throwing up at Joe’s Crab Shack. I didn’t write anything about all those happy moments. I didn’t write about picking out the perfect nursery theme or about the two beautiful baby showers where we got to celebrate with family and friends. I didn’t write about any of those things.

And now, I sit here a year later, looking back on a year that included such intense joy and also three of the shittiest months of my entire life. I sit here a year later wondering what the next year will look like. But this time I’m not hopeful. At least not today. This year, I’m terrified. I’m scared to put my hopes and dreams into writing for fear that they will just be shattered again.

So, today, instead of looking ahead at the next year, I’m just going to look ahead at the next day. Because sometimes you just have to take things one day at a time. One hour at a time. One minute at a time.

Grief does that.

Broken dreams do that.

Just do the next right thing. The next precise thing. The next step forward.


One thought on “Looking Back and Looking Forward.

  1. One day at a time is not always easy, but it is necessary throughout different seasons of life. I was having to practice this prior to pregnancy, premature birth, & death of Kaia Gene. Just when I had hoped we were moving out of it we fell back into at the bottom of the pit.

    What this has taught me is that, while hope still exists, we only can live today in preparation for the tomorrows & the tomorrows are what will bring hope in their own time. You express so beautifully right where you are. As mothers who have grieved (& are grieving) our babies deaths, we have the todays & tomorrows to live with & all we can do is be right where we are & be our best selves we are capable of being in that day.

    Keep being your beautiful self. Love you 3 heaps!


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