“For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn” - A Story of Radical Acceptance
“Ernest Hemmingway walks into a bar…” – teasing – I won’t share any silly jokes or witty riddles. However, the catalyst for the above “short story” does involve Ernest Hemingway in a bar. His authorship of the story began with a wager between a couple of friends in the 1920s. For a prize of $10 (no small sum in the era), could he write a story with only six words? The answer is yes.
It had been nearly two decades since I initially learned about the tale of Hemingway’s six-word story: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” For reasons unknown I remember it distinctly, perhaps due to the nature of the implied tragedy. As it turns out, my grief for the fictional protagonist (likely a once hopeful mother) may have been foreshadowing for my own misfortunes.
My first pregnancy came and went in early 2021. The baby was a gift that I had hoped and prayed for since I myself was a small child. The loss not only carried the weight of the dreams of a newborn life but also the weight of what seemed like a hail mary attempt to save my crumbling marriage. The cause of the loss was incompatible Rh factor proteins. The miscarriage was devastating. However, equipped with new knowledge – I was hopeful that another blessing would come.
I lost the second pregnancy summer of 2021. I felt as though my heart was a 50-pound rock functioning as an anchor and dragging me further and further into the depths of the sea. The medical team and I pursued a “leave no stone unturned” approach to discovering the culprit for the heartbreaking loss this time around. After a myriad of appointments and laboratory tests we determined it was an undiagnosed rare blood clotting disorder. For the next course of action we began the in vitro fertilization (IVF) process with the best team of doctors available to us.
Low and behold, yet another tragic blow – due to a combination of despairing reasons that I won’t dive into, I was left with no alternative but to walk away from my marriage in late 2021. All hopes of the loving and beautiful family I had always pictured seemed and felt gone forever.
Needless to say, I struggled to move forward from these shattering losses as I was often unwilling to accept the fact that they had occurred at all. My mind and heart were just not equipped to face such devastation. Even through the division of assets in the divorce process, I held on closely to the box of baby clothes I had ecstatically purchased not even a year prior. Of course, deep down I knew I had no use for them in the near future, maybe ever.
I would have liked to tell you that I have since come to meet the real “Mr. Right” and am now a mother. However, that’s currently not my story. What I have found is redeeming encouragement, comfort, and hope in the most unlikely place - the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous.
My drinking escalated to egregious quantities following the aftermath of my divorce. At first I was almost offended when a loving friend strongly recommended that I try AA, but that’s just how God likes to work sometimes - concealing his greatest wisdom and blessings until least expected. Through the ups and downs of my sobriety journey thus far and working through the “Big Book” of Alcoholics Anonymous with my sponsor I have come to appreciate the richness of accepting God’s will and plans for me - whether I initially like them or not. The following is one of my favorite passages from the Big Book.
And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed it is because I find some person, place, thing, situation – some fact of my life – unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be in this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing, happens in God’s world by mistake. Until I could accept my alcoholism, I could not stay sober; unless I accept life completely on life’s terms, I cannot be happy. I need to focus not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes.
Many people know that the first step in recovery from alcoholism is acknowledging the problem. I believe this philosophy has much greater implications beyond addiction. Day-by-day I am learning not only how to confront the grief but also how to live the way God truly intends - with Him alongside me, at times even carrying me, through trials that overwhelm my worldly mind. The more I live in God and the solution, the smaller my problems seemingly become.
Don’t be mistaken, my problems have not all disappeared. I still have many difficulties that require extensive trauma therapy. However, I now have the tools to face these challenges head on. I make a plan. I show up for it. I’m there for others, and most importantly, I’m honest.
Since realigning to my truest self and recommitting to God, I am able to take on hurdles of all magnitudes, even infertility, divorce and addiction. As the passage above states, I have begun to accept life on life’s terms and actually feel a restored sense of inner peace. I concentrate on what I can adjust, and that’s my attitude and actions. My dad liked to say when I was growing up that more people act their way into a good way of thinking than think their way into a good way of acting. I have found this to be spot-on.
Just for today, I choose to trust God and accept that I’m exactly where He intends. Who knows, perhaps I will become a seasoned global traveler escapading across the world one AA meeting at a time. Perhaps in ten years I will be a sleepless mother of five. Perhaps with God’s help and modern science a family of my own will come to life in a way I never imagined possible.
I cannot change the past, but I can acknowledge it, learn from it, let go, and move forward in prayer. With that, “baby shoes: for sale, never worn.” The rest of the story is in God’s hands.
