Dear Past Me: You're Going to Be Okay

A Letter to the Woman Who Didn't Know What Was Coming

Ten years ago I married my husband, here's what I wish I could tell that girl, young, in love and full of hope.

Dear Allison,

I'm writing this ten years after your wedding, and I wish I could reach back and tell you what's coming. Not to change anything, because I wouldn't change where we ended up, but to give you some peace during the hardest years ahead.

You're going to start trying for a baby soon-ish, just as you had planned. And it's going to be so much harder than you imagine. Nothing, I mean nothing, will go according to your plan. You'll lose babies, more than you can imagine possible. Each loss will break your heart in a different way. After each loss you will wonder if you can go on, how you will go on. But you can and you do.

Here's what I need you to know: you're going to be okay. More than okay, your road will lead you to be exactly where you're meant to be.

Be patient with the process. Those years from 2017 to 2025 will feel agonizingly slow while you're in them. Every month will feel like forever. Every loss will feel like a step backward. But sitting here now with four beautiful children, I can see that every single step, even the most painful ones, led us exactly where we needed to go.

Hold tight to your faith, even when you're angry. You're going to be mad at God sometimes, and that's okay. He can handle your anger, your questions, your doubt. Keep talking to Him even when it hurts. Your faith will get you through this. Turn to God in both the hard times and the good.

Let yourself grieve fully. Don't rush past the sadness. Even now, several years later, our two older boys still talk about Delsia. The way they casually include her in their conversations will both crush your heart and warm it all at the same time. The other day Seven asked if we could go dig her up and see her in the "treasure chest." It sounds strange, but my heart melted that he thinks about her, that she's still included as a part of our family story. Your grief will become integrated into your life in beautiful ways you can't imagine now.

And let Brook in. You both grieve differently, but you both feel the loss. Let it be okay. While he may not show it the same way you do, he's hurting too. He's processing his own disappointment and dreams deferred while also trying to be strong for you. Let him support you, but also remember to support him. Some of your closest moments together will come in the quiet after a loss, when you're both just holding each other and the weight of what could have been. His steady presence will be your anchor when the waves of grief feel too big to handle alone.

Trust that it will all be worth it. I know that sounds impossible when you're in the thick of loss, but I promise you, every heartbreak, every disappointment, every moment of wondering if you'll ever be a mom, it all leads to the most incredible family. Our kids, four in total!, are exactly the kids we are meant to have.

Let yourself be done when you're done. After you lose Delsia in November 2022, your sixth loss, you're going to know immediately that you're done trying for biological children. Don't fight that feeling. Give yourself permission to close that door. The freedom you'll feel in making that decision will surprise you.

Embrace the joy. The appreciation you have for each child will be deeper than you can imagine. Because you fought so hard to get here, you'll treasure the ordinary moments in extraordinary ways. Stop yourself amidst the chaos just to soak it in. Never take family dinner for granted. Learn to smile through the hard times, (and with four kids, there will be many).

Right now, as I write this, I'm getting ready to embark on a homeschooling adventure, we're growing a garden together, taking bike rides, having dance parties, and planning to visit four national parks in a few weeks (we're working toward all 63!). Because I had to wait so long to get here, I keep reminding myself: this IS it. I made it. We made it.

Your life is full. It still has moments of hard. It still has moments of messy. But it is full of love, and beauty, and joy. And there is no where else I would rather be.

Trust the process, sweet girl. Your story is going to be more beautiful than you can imagine.

Love, Future You

P.S. There will be another loss, too, one I can't bear to mention here. Because knowing would not help, because some grief can only be walked through, not prepared for. Trust that you're stronger than you know. You'll survive that loss, too.

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photos from 10 years ago and photos from present day