About my blog’s picture…

Logging on to my blog today, I can’t help but to think where I was at when my husband snapped this picture of me.  It was our first official month that we were being INTENTIONAL about TTC.  February 2011.  We had been off birth control for 3 months.  We were temp tracking, optimistic and felt for sure that we would be pregnant in no time.  We were on our first cruise together….sailing around the Eastern Caribbean.  Midweek, our hopes and dreams came to a quick and shattering halt.  This was NOT going to be our month.  Even that first month, we were devastated…hurt, and disappointed.  We shed our tears and just as quickly, dried them off, put our unmet expectations behind us and moved forward.  Little did we know the part of our story we were just stepping into.

I came across this picture yesterday.  I am trying to put together a scrapbook of our lives and activities since we have been married.  I used to be so diligent about these things.  But since SD cards have replaced film, I have very few pictures to show for it.  But I am working on it…utilizing Shutterfly’s project center to help me out.  Anyway, when I saw this, I knew it would be perfect as the main picture on my blog. The essence of the picture a powerful metaphor for my current struggle with infertility.

In the picture, I am staring out into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean…there is not a boat or another piece of land for miles….just the ocean, consuming the entirety of the horizon.  And me…just one person, on this powerful boat, making my way through it.  Waiting for land to appear.  Waiting for the sun to set, for the sun to rise, for sea life to show it self from below the deep waters.  Waiting for a change in scenery.  Hopeful, expectant.  Waiting for what I know I will love…but for now, I journey.  I allow this vessel to carry me through the waves.  I allow it to teach me its lessons.  I can always feel the wind upon my face.  It ruffles my hair, reminding me that I AM making forward progress.  I am not stagnant.  I will see land.  I will walk on land again. 

I remain ever hopeful.