In the beginning, everything felt impossibly dark.
The NICU was filled with the constant medical noise and froing terminology. Time crawls too. Days blurred together but the fragile rise and fall of my boys’ chests was a constant. I lived in a space where fear felt louder than anything else, where hope seemed distant, almost unreachable.
I couldn’t see hope and I certainly did not feel it.
Hope didn’t look the way I thought it would. It wasn’t bold or radiant or easy to hold onto. It was quieter than that, but lived in the smallest of places.
It was in their breath.
Each tiny inhale and each exhale was a miracle.. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that breath was hope itself.
Looking back now, I understand: hope was never absent on our journey. On the contrary it embodied us and it held us.
Even when I couldn’t name it, even when I couldn’t feel it fully, it was there in every breath.
Held by Hope is a reminder that there is light within the darkness even when it is hard to see.
Original Painting Size: 24x18"
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