The jar of hope

When I “graduated” from the fertility clinic at about 10 weeks along, I felt a little unprepared to go out into the world.  These people who had been so kind to me, so caring, who knew so much about me and were super-excited for me in every way, would no longer be part of my routine care.  I would soon find myself in the cold, clinical settings of an OB/GYN and a Maternal Fetal Medicine group, where I would become one of many pregnant women seen daily.

So when they dismissed me, I shook the hand of my PA and gave it a squeeze and a hearty thanks – it certainly didn’t seem like enough of a thank you or even a goodbye.  I walked a little slowly out of the office and toward the receptionist.  She asked me if I needed any follow up visits, and I said no.  She smiled and said that I was all set.  Really?  That’s it?  I turned to leave.

“Wait!  Did anyone tell you about the jar of hope?”

I shook my head and murmured a “No,” turning back around.  She stood up and opened the door to the other side of the clinic and invited me in.  Now, although I had responded “No,” I knew what the jar was.  It was a glass hurricane bowl they keep on the “clinic” side (where they draw your blood, perform early ultrasounds, and probably do their IUI/IVF procedures) by the exit door near the receptionists desk.  There are tiny little glass marbles inside the jar, and a postcard next to it explained that the jar of hope was filled with marbles that each represented a pregnancy / baby that the office helped to conceive.  It’s supposed to inspire you that you too will achieve success.  I remember being very charmed at first seeing the jar and reading its story, especially as it was placed in a modest area of the clinic – not in plain sight for everyone to view but in a visible enough space that those who needed to see it would.  As time went on, I looked at it a little cynically, believing I would never have a marble in that jar.

No one had mentioned the jar to me, or the fact that I was now pregnant meant I could leave a marble in the jar.  I didn’t even believe it myself – after all, the clinic had studied me quite well but I had gotten pregnant spontaneously, without the assistance of their ARTs.  If I put a marble in the jar I would be committing fraud.

But the receptionist didn’t know that.  She just knew I came in at 7:15 or 7:30 in the morning to get my blood drawn, and had started coming in for ultrasounds.  She knew I was at my 10th week and ready to be dismissed.  She knew I was pregnant while a patient there.  She smiled and offered me a little woven basket of marbles and explained the purpose of the jar to me.  I teared up as I grabbed a marble and put it in the jar.  Plink!  I started crying and the receptionist did too.  She gave me a big hug and wished me lots of luck.

That was the first time I cried about being pregnant.  I sat in my car and cried a little more before pulling myself together and going home.  How many other women have felt that same way in their office?  How many other people can be touched by a simple act of kindness?

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4 thoughts on “The jar of hope

  1. Urghhhh! I know my hormones are all over anyway but that just made me cry! I’m so pleased that I came across your blog today and wish you all the very best for your future x

  2. Just this month I got my UU diagnosis and started TTC. I’m so happy to be following your hopeful, honest story. You write beautifully!

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