I was reading some old blog entries and came across one that stopped me in my own tracks.  Although deeply personal, I’ve decided to share.  Here is that post from No Purpose Flowers dated December 31, 2009:

“A final word on this final day of the defining decade of my life to date. In a short ten years, I have known some of the greatest losses and joys and blessings of my life. It overwhelms me, more than a little…to think of the life and death cycles and experiences of the decade.

I celebrated the passing of the (my) carefree 1990’s and ushered in the year 2000 with silent prayer and obvious heartbreak amidst the other party goers on the balcony of a South Beach apartment.  The prayers? That my father might be spared, that my career goals would get back on track in DC, that I would be soon heading back to Colorado this time to stay, that I might have a home and family of my own. Not knowing what, if any, of those things were in my future, the photographer in me was resigned to take a mental picture of what I knew to be the last moments of calm before a truly awful storm.  I begged time to stop or at least slow, but I knew better.

Despite my offers and pleas to a g-d, whose existence I now questioned in earnest, less than 60 days later we buried my father, I gave up the job I fought so mightily for and with it gave up certain ambitions as I took on a different role at home, and aspects of my hard fought for independence, not to mention dreams of living elsewhere.
There could be no silver lining to those realities but you should not be misled. I was aware that my life was still rich and fundamentally good, no great.

Indeed, I was surprised, grateful, and overjoyed to receive the single greatest gift of my life that same year – Jason got down on one knee and I heard the words I waited for.  After four years of dating, Jason asked me to marry him. A relationship that pushes me, tests me, inspires me, forces me to work harder than I’ve ever worked and one that sustains my every breath and is my ultimate peace. Jason is bar none, my greatest joy and the greatest asset of my life.

Then, in consecutive years I experienced pregnancy and motherhood. Initially, obviously overjoyed, but admittedly naive to the extent of that miracle. The fight for and the realization of the dream to be a family is unparalleled in my life. The blessings that are my beautiful sons are beyond words or expressions of gratitude and joy. They are my ultimate miracles and the bring me happiness and contentment every minute of their lives. There is literally no corner of this earth I wouldn’t have gone to make them mine.

The ensuing years and burning desire for more children, well, what can be said beyond “it is what it is.” The torture and torment of infertility is a lonely and isolating place. And it has tested my sanity more than I thought anything could. Fitting that I so boldly declared this final year to be mine. How harshly the universe put me in my place. Abandoning dreams is hard work. Doing so while not losing sight of the miracles in your midst – even harder.

The thing of it is, it is all well and good to say “I choose” to be ok, “I choose” to make character-building, lesson-learning, zesty-move-on-lemonade: only in the dark, quiet, and most other points in the day – the truth is stronger, and I also “choose” to be brave enough to feel the reality instead of a coward hiding behind a lie. At least, for me, it is easy to cover but impossible to ignore. I get up each day and do my best to fight the good and necessary fights, to find beauty and joy as much as possible, to spend as many glorious moments with my greatest joys – the boys…all three of them, but I am undeniably changed from some of the decades loses. I carry a bit more sadness and a lot more anxiety. Maybe it is just a fact of “growing up.” I wish it weren’t. I wish that several bad headaches in row didn’t bring fears of cancer or not seeing the kids at the carpool gathering spot the moment I’m supposed to didn’t conjure terror-ous fears of an accident or worse.  Treatment, pregnancies, miscarriages.  Again and again and again.  Blech!

It is embarrassing really, how I drone on about something comparatively little. How lucky I am, both because despite the hurdles, I have achieved more of a family then I could ask for and because my struggles could be so much worse. But to be the best person I can be, don’t I have to be honest, to the world and perhaps more importantly to myself? If the answer is yes, then I have to be able to admit that this pain runs to the deepest part of my soul without worrying that the admission makes me less of a person, wife, or mother. That the admission doesn’t take away from the joy and blessings I know because of the family I do have.

Through it all I have known love, peace, friendship and family that define me. I’ve been inspired, I’ve grown, and (I think) I remain hopeful and not battered beyond repair. While there are obvious parts I’d have preferred to not endure, I accept that they are part of my story and journey and make me the person I am.

On balance, my life is beautiful and good. Better, perhaps than I have the right to ask for. Tonight’s silent prayer won’t be in such quiet as it was 10 years ago, rather it will be filled with voices of friends and our children running around our house, and the very loud but far too distant voices of persons I’ve lost along the way.

I wonder whether the so-called 20’s will again roar and I fear some of what lies ahead. I pray for the health and happiness of all. Once again, I will leave the camera on the table and instead take mental pictures of the relative perfection that stands before me now.”

Fast forward two years, I am grateful for a new year with renewed hope and faith in what the future holds. I hope my voice continues to be present, strong, and heard.

I remain unfathomably grateful for my blessings, including the biggest one of the past year – my survival.  2011 challenged me in every possible way but here I am…battered but certainly not beyond repair.  I hope the coming year is more gentle than the last and, as I always do, I hope that each of us enjoys health and happiness.  And I hope your all of the mental pictures taken tonight are the most powerful and sustaining yet – knowing how good we have it.

Much love and fabulous wishes for the new year,
jodi alison