Hope

As I sat here recovering from the Chanukah celebration that I hosted in my home last night, I wondered out loud what I should write about. Jewish people around the world are in the midst of celebrating "The Festival of Light", and so my mind is somewhat focused on the concept of "light vs. dark" right now. Interestingly enough, my angel daughter number three was sitting here with me, on my bed, and when I asked the rhetorical question, "What should I write about?", she replied, "Write about me!" The reason that I find this interesting is because out of my four daughters, AD3 is the only one who has lighter hair, and very, very blue eyes. She is kind of like the "light" spot in our gene pool! All four of our daughters are bright spots in our lives, but angel daughter number three is a little bit different. So, here I sit contemplating how AD3 stands out amongst our girls, and in a moment of brightness, it struck me...She is the only one who did not come easily into our lives. She is a soul who came to us in her own time. A bit of a princess from even before conception.

Conceiving babies is something that came easily to my husband and I. It seems like the moment we decided to have our first baby, I became pregnant. It didn't stop there, daughter number two was also conceived with ease, and so when we decided that it was time to have a third, something happened that we were not prepared for. I knew that I was pregnant, because I could always sense when I conceived. I took an early pregnancy test when I felt AD3 take hold. The test turned positive and we were absolutely overjoyed. I knew that it was early, but I didn't really feel any need to worry. A few days later, I began to bleed, and I panicked. Although it was nighttime on a Sunday, my OB told me to meet him at the office for an ultrasound. I rushed over there, leaving my husband home with our two small daughters. I remember the office was dark. I remember that my doctor was wearing blue jeans. I remember looking at the ultrasound screen, and searching for a tiny heartbeat. And then, I remember my doctor's words,"I'm sorry.", and I knew that I was no longer carrying a baby. Although it was very early, the feeling of loss rushed over me. I cried all of the way home. I cried in the shower for the next couple of weeks. I had two healthy girls, but I wanted more children. What if I was not able to conceive again?

Joyfully, angel daughter number three was conceived a few weeks later. I must admit that the fear of what had occurred between my second and third pregnancies really stuck with me. I could not relax into the reality of this baby until at least the third month. She entered the world on the first day of Spring. A light in the darkness at the end of Winter. A fair-haired little angel with ice-blue eyes. She was one of the happiest babies I had ever seen. My gratitude for this baby was even greater than ever, because she had been conceived at a time in which I needed an answer which nobody else could give me. She was my answer.

We went on to have angel daughter number four, who also came to us in her own time. Unlike AD3, she decided to come to us a bit earlier than we might have planned, but absolutely celebrated, none the less.

When I asked, "What should I write about, today?", the answer was clearer than I even thought it would be. My angel daughter somehow knew that she was supposed to prompt me. During this season of light, AD3 reminded me to look at the brightness that shines through the dark. It was daylight when I began writing this, and now, it is night. The "light spot in my gene pool" is asking me what is for dinner, and when we are going to light the Chanukah candles. As I look into her ice-blue eyes, I am reminded of how she came as a radiant light into our lives. I think about light versus dark, day versus night, Winter versus Spring, and joy versus sadness. I remind myself that if I am feeling sad about something, that times will get better. There will always be a brighter day. Angel daughter three's middle name is Hope. How many more reminders can one person provide in order to prove to us that there will always be a better day?

May your life always provide reminders of light, even on the darkest and coldest of days. May you always remember that YOU are a bright spot in someone else's life.