On Dreams

In my junior year of college I had a dream. The dream was so vivid it may as well have been the events of the day before. To this day I can picture everything so clearly. I was walking down the hallway of the second floor of my house. At this point in my life the biggest square footage I inhabited was my cubby and bunk in our dorm room. Yet I felt right at home in that place. This was my house. The hallway had three doors on the left with a fourth at the end of the hall. I walked past the first door and glanced inside. There sitting in the floor was a girl, 7-8 years old with chocolate brown hair down to her mid back. She rose and walked to her dresser but never turned. The second door was closed and while the third was open I didn’t look in. The open door at the end of the hall led to a small library with a fire and armchair. As I sat down in the arm chair I heard foot steps behind me. A boy walks to my chair and climbs up in my lap. He has dark hair, bright green eyes and glasses. A sigh comes from the door and I see Kristen leaning in the door frame, arms crossed, and smiling. 

I knew, that day, that I saw my children. Kristen and I were not even engaged yet but she was there. As a Junior in college I knew I would be a dad and that Kristen would be my wife and their mom. 

In less than a year I would be told that due to chemotherapy as a child I would never have my own children. In 2015 we were knocked out of the running of many private adoption agencies when I was diagnosed with colon cancer. 2016 we became a certified foster home, were open for nine months, and never got a call. September of 2017 we go through in vitro, were pregnant by Christmas, and miscarried in January. 

Almost 9 years have lapsed since I had that dream. I know faith has to be tested but when the car you drive dies on the free way every time you drive you get reluctant to even start the engine. I thought I knew that dream was from God but if I am being completely honest I was beginning to lose hope. 

Three weeks ago I walked into the NICU at UC hospital in complete and total awe. The nurse pulls a tightly wrapped bundle out of the bassinet and hands her to me. My mind was racing and completely blank. I was incredibly nervous but strangely peaceful. She wiggled around for a moment then settled into my arms. As she did her hat fell off and I saw my daughter’s chocolate brown hair for the SECOND time. 

It may take 9 days. It may take 9 months. It may even take 9 years. You may be knocked down. It may be painful and it may be scary. As hopeless as it becomes don’t give up. Don’t you dare give up. God’s timing is perfect, I promise you.

-William