trying again

"I have learned two lessons in my life: first, there are no sufficient literary, psychological, or historical answers to human tragedy, only moral ones. Second, just as despair can come to one another only from other human beings, hope, too, can be given to one only by other human beings." ~Elie Wiesel

I received a letter today from a friend who I had been close with in the past, but had recently lost touch with. In the letter, he told me about how much a past encounter with me had meant to him, and how something I said had helped him cope with hard times. I remember this meeting, but I had no idea how much what I had said would mean to him. A couple years after this meeting, and a long time after we had spoken with each other for the last time, he had made the effort to attend my daughter's funeral. He made sacrifices to be there for me in the most urgent time of need. He, like so many other people I had developed relationships with through my life, had dropped everything to support me. Along with this letter, he enclosed a substantial check, the amount including donations from people I have long since lost regular contact with. I was taken aback, and felt an overwhelming sense of love and support.

Gestures like this always surprise me. I know I've lived a good life, and I've tried to be there for people when they need me. I've dedicated a lot of my adult life to helping others, often without thanks. I'm content with the feeling of satisfaction from the work itself, and not relying on expressions of gratitude to justify my efforts. However, through my recent loss, I've learned that there's a diffence between being a good person to people in general, and being a good friend to those who are close to my heart. The outpouring of support has opened my eyes to relationships I've let slip away, and my unfortunate ability to forget about those who I've shared so many experiences. I know I have to do better, because relationships lose power after time spent apart, and I now know the importance of having people who love me.

The donations were meant to allow my wife and I to travel and support ourselves while we were away from work and every day life. Even though the check came a little late to serve that purpose, the funds will go to an even more meaningful purpose. We are now at a time when we're able to safely try again for another child, and we've decided to give it a shot. While we know we'll never be able to replace Lily, and we'd never attempt to do so, we are feeling a void in our lives. The instant Lily was born, I became a father. I am now left a father without a child. The joy and feeling of meaning that we attained at Lily's birth has left a longing to fill our lives with chidren. Not to replace what we've lost, but to enhance our lives and fill our need to be parents. We want to give Lily brothers and sisters she can be proud of, and give them everything we would have given Lily had she stayed here with us. We owe it to her to give our children the best live we can, and we're going to do our best to do just that.

It's a scary time. We're now more aware than ever of the risk we are taking. Every rare medical condition has been brought into our conscious, and we do our best to filter the most likely from the almost impossible outcome. It's a challenge because we've already experienced a rare consequence that many parents will never encounter, and it's hard to differentiate between the extremely rare and the almost certain. However, those challenges aside, Lily has shown us that the reward is definitely worth the risk. The joy of bringing a child into the world is like nothing I've ever experienced. Now, we are trying again, because we know that the joy of watching our children grow and develop into amazing people on their own will be just as rewarding. In that spirit, we're trying.....again.