2022 in review
We’re in the final days between Christmas and New Years, and I’m still in denial that another year has come and gone. These are the days full of lazy mornings, third cups of coffee (but let’s be honest, I do this every day), not knowing exactly what day of the week it is, making resolutions and half hearted promises to ‘just do it next year.’
If I’m being honest, I’m ready for 2022 to be over. The last few years have felt like a blur, all blended together, and I’m in desperate need of a fresh start. I need to believe life can begin again, even if it is just the year on a calendar.
2022 was filled with so much deep loss in my world. There are no words to even begin to describe the sheer heartache 2022 has brought for me and my family, and I could write an entire blog post on all the things that went wrong.
It was a tough year in terms of family, with career opportunities meaning my husband and I spent more time away from each other than together. Our attempts to grow our family were once again met with loss, the kind that can so easily turn to bitterness as I see friends have babies and my gut reaction every time is “At least they aren’t dead” as I unfollow another birth announcement. My parents moved 5 hours away, and while we still see them often it is the first time we’ve been more than a few blocks apart in my entire life.
What was supposed to be my year in terms of getting healthy and thriving turned into an almost year long battle searching for answers and being failed in so many ways by the people who were supposed to help me. When I finally was believed, the damage was irreparable, and I had an entire abdominal wall reconstruction in November, spending my third birthday in a row in the hospital.
Of course there were beautiful moments too. They say rock bottom is where you find out what you’re made of, and I definitely touched the depths of my own strength and power this year. I wrote, and finished the first draft of, my book, and while I’m still not sure what I’m going to do with it the knowing that these stories are finally out on paper is a huge sigh of relief. I partnered with a few local businesses working on branding and photoshoots, something I discovered I love and hope to do more of in the future. I woke up every day to a career I love, working in patient advocacy, and have had the opportunity to work with major hospitals, organizations and celebrities associated with transplantation.
This year turned out nothing like I thought it would. And while I want to have hope that 2023 will be better, there’s also the chance it won’t. December 31 to January 1 is just a day, there is no magic button that will make everything better.
I guess what I want to know is that there’s always the option to begin again. I want to know we are never too far gone, too broken, too messed up to receive love and grace and second chances. And isn’t that what we all want? As the calendar flips from one year to the next, don’t we all just want to believe that things can begin again? That we are worthy of a second start?
Right now if I look out my window, all I see is white. Snow covers the ground, up to my knees, and the trees are frosted in white. And still I know deeply within my being that time will pass, and the snow will melt, and what now is just blankets of white will become grassy fields and prairies, green trees and flowers. Can I believe the same is true for me? Can I believe just as deeply within my own being that this is just a season, a season that is necessary and organically occurring and won’t last forever, and that spring is coming? Can I believe just as deeply that I get to begin again?
I believe that. For me, for you, for all of us. Whatever kind of beautiful or awful this year held, I believe we get to begin again, and it’s not reliant on the number on the calendar or the weather outside. This is my blessing for you as we finish out 2022 and move in to 2023: you are worthy of second chances. You get to begin again.
