Five Anchors

When Greg and I were first married we were den leaders to a troop of 10 year-old Cub Scouts. One day our little den had to pass off public speaking by giving a 3-minute speech on anything they wanted. The usual boy topics were covered (BYU football, Pokémon, soccer) and it was nothing earth-shattering. Then the last kid got up to our makeshift podium and with total sincerity gave this speech:

"Wishes. I'd like to speak about wishes. Sometimes they come true, sometimes they don't. Wishing on a wishbone sometimes works. Wishing with a penny in a fountain never works. Birthday candle wishes usually work. Shooting stars always work. So wish, 'cause you never know."

There you have it. Wishing is important. But I believe in something more than wishing. I believe in HOPE.

The Book of Mormon describes hope as "an anchor to the souls of men." I can attest that during the last two months of rigorous IVF prep my own soul has stayed safely anchored in the Bay of Possibility while the currents of doubt, tides of despair and storms of worry have raged all around me. Hope is more than wishing. Hope is tied to belief, and I believe it is not all up to chance. There is a plan. I am consequential.

I never realized how many anchors of hope were around me until I was in desperate need of them. These, I have discovered, are some of my best anchors:

You will never get anywhere if you don't believe you can get there. It is hard to believe sometimes, but if I can still believe after ten years then you can, too. Don't give up on yourself, no matter what you are battling. (Thank you, Mary, for being clever and lucky online. You are the best. You know how I love a good stop sign as well as a tasty pastry or an impromptu fish sandwich!)  

  

I see myself in this picture. A woman with tired, yet hopeful, eyes (she needs bareMinerals) wearing a cloak of comfort with a devil on her shoulder. It reminds me of an excerpt from The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint Exupéry: IT IS ONLY WITH THE HEART THAT ONE CAN SEE RIGHTLY; WHAT IS ESSENTIAL IS INVISIBLE TO THE EYE. I will only listen to my heart and my mind when they are in unison. That is what is essential. I will pay no heed to that barnacle that clings to my wing.

 

Today Greg and I witnessed many small miracles at the doctor's office. Little wonders. The Lord continues to watch over us throughout this process, and this process is a roller coaster. I'm not gonna lie. I've been a little nuts the past few days. (Dandelion statues in San Francisco. Didn't you always make a wish with the puffy white ones? Now as an adult mowing addict/grass enthusiast I'm like, "No! Don't spread the evil seed of white dandelions! Spawn of Satan!")

 

My doctors tell me my body thinks and acts like it is older than 36. I have a 40% chance with one egg and an 80% chance with two eggs. Even then, one out of three pregnancies ends in miscarriage. I cannot fathom any more odds. No more numbers. If it is to be, it will be. This is all I can do. (Thank you, Aunt Lynne, for giving Greg the best birthday card!)

RE drew this picture of me with a baby in my tummy when she was 3. It has been on our fridge for the last 8 1/2 years. Cristall bought me the magnet from Becca Ayers' garage sale for a quarter when we lived in our old house on Woodridge Drive. It says "Lettuce Be Friends" and somehow accompanied me to college, marriage and homeownership. I have looked at this picture daily for so many years. Sometimes with anger. Sometimes with wishing. Sometimes as a weary disciple. Most recently with hope. This puppy is getting framed when I get pregnant.

I am going to get pregnant.

*IN-VITRO DISCLAIMER/APOLOGY: Similar to the way one talks about poop the entire time they potty train their child, I realize that I have said the word "follicle" and "uterus" and "ovary" about a million times in the last few weeks. I've talked about them to men as well as women, strangers as well as friends. I'm sorry. Those little follicles are my universe right now. Pray that they will hold tight for two more days. I just need them to hang on for two more days.