In 1995 I had a miscarriage of pregnancy surrounding the Thanksgiving holiday. I was almost four months along, but on going to my first sonogram appointment it was discovered that there was no heartbeat and the pregnancy was not viable. For the days to come, I went through some serious medical risks and ended up having to go through labor to deliver the baby that I'd never really know. While I grieved the loss of my unborn child, I was thankful that my own life had been spared - but some guilt remained for having survived it. Today this child would be almost 20 years old. I do not know its gender. To this day I have a tiny little knit hat tucked into the top drawer of my dresser as a means of remembering this little life. That November, I never named this child, but somehow it seems right today to give this child it's name - Courage. For the losses we live through and the loved ones we miss, we move on in courage and hope. Today marks the a...
Life is tough, but hope is tougher.