Audaciously Hoping

Once, while walking past an open basketball court, I saw this guy throw a basketball up in the air and then..swooosh...nothing but net. Standing right under the goal was his son, probably no more than four years old and barely four feet high. "Do it again, daddy!", said the child eagerly waiting to see his father score another field goal. Now judging from the way that the guy dribbled and released the ball, I'd honestly say and firmly believe that I could have taken him "one-on-one". The score might be close but with a little nudge here and there while on defense, I'd declare victory at the sound of the buzzer. If anyone was taking note of the stats for that game, the records would unequivocally reflect that I'd beat him in all categories: points, rebounds, blocked shots, steals...heck, I could have probably passed the ball to myself several times and chalk up some assists (Yes, folks. The guy was that bad.) But no matter how bad I'd beat him, regardless of what the score board read after the game, in the eyes of that child, I would never amount to anything close to what his father is to him.

This left me once again wrestling with those lingering thoughts, those disquieting and cumbersome questions: When am I going to be a father? For over two years, I've been putting up a brave front and valiantly coasting along the life of being childless. Along with my loving wife, we faced disappointment, fear, frustration, bitterness, anger and sorrow in dealing with this circumstance. We've shed tears and, at times, locked horns just to get by. Yet, here we are...still hoping, praying and trying. I've asked myself a lot of time: What do I have to do to become a father? (APART FROM THE OBVIOUS! -- to any smart alecks out there)

Now there's a whole laundry list of advise and suggestions given to us. Some from the applicable medical field and quite a lot from others who have been through this struggle before. But I also have heeded the sound advise from within me. That enlightening voice of conscience that, during these trying time, funnels in words of wisdom, helping me up after being once again knocked out by evaporated hopes and unanswered prayers. The message is simple: I have to be strong for myself and my wife. We're on a new cycle and again we'll cloth ourselves with that cautious confidence and carry that flicker of hope on this journey. We'll be stronger this time. And just maybe, I'd be scoring those baskets, this time to the delight of my own child.

Again, I'd like to express my most sincerest gratitude to Baby Blue's support group. You have no idea how significant your thoughts and prayers are during these trying times. From what I've read, you have your own battles to fight and win, your own difficulties and disappointments to deal with, and yet you find the time to reach out to us, just to let us know that you were thinking of us. Your virtual presence reminds me of something I picked up from the TV series "The West Wing" Here it goes:

"This guy's walking down the street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can't get out. A doctor passes by, and the guy shouts up, "Hey, you, can you help me out?" The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along, and the guy shouts up, "Father, I'm down in this hole. Can you help me out?" The priest writes a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a friend walks by. Hey, Joe, it's me. Can you help me out" And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, "Are you nuts? Now we're both down here." The friend says, "Yeah, but I've been down here before - and I know the way out."

We're all down here in this hole. I say we help each other find the way out.