Valentine's day, kind of

Today is Valentine’s day, kind of.

As I began to get ready this morning, I was struck with a feeling of familiarity, a bitter-sweetness that was striking and unshakable.

I have celebrated Valentine’s day as a single woman. There is a loneliness that latches on, a cloud of something missing that looms over the day. On that day, above others, a single person FEELS single. And those feelings can go a few ways:

a) Bitterness at those who have someone to share the day with OR

b) Hope that next year might be different

On every single Valentine’s day, I would always take special care to get ready: do my hair, carefully apply makeup, choose a strategic outfit, all because I wanted to look like someone who could be loved, to look like someone who believed her life could change. And one day, it did.

Now, as a married woman, hoping, praying, and waiting to adopt a child, it’s Valentine’s day all over again. I got ready this morning and looked in the mirror, hoping that I looked like a woman who could be loved, who believes her life can change.

On this day of all days, a childless woman FEELS childless. And feelings can go both ways:

a) Bitterness as those who have someone to share the day with OR

b) Hope that next year might be different

I choose hope.

Happy day to all the beautiful women who are mothers.

Happy day to all the lovely women who are hopeful mothers-to-be.

Happy day to the men who are given the task of comforting women who have never held a child of their own. 


You are loved. And you are not forgotten. Have hope.