Hubs Guest Post: Trying to Find Our No Hitter

I’ve been asked to contribute another guest blog for the last couple weeks and, well, I haven’t had a whole lot to write about. Things have been relatively quiet here and I have been doing my best to enjoy the sunshine of life before the storm of our impending science experiment rolls in. We begin medication this week and we will revert back into crisis mode: timed injections, ultrasounds, and the daily rhetorical question of, “do you think it will work?”

From what my wife’s told you about me, I’m sure you may know that I’m an avid baseball fan. I live and die by the actions of the San Francisco Giants. A season of baseball is long and, if your favorite team is losing like mine is, it feels even longer. You go from wanting to root and yell and win, to just wanting the whole damn thing to be over with so you can try to reclaim your life until next season. Sound familiar?

Tim Lincecum is one of my favorite players on the Giants and I’ve been following his career since he was drafted. Over the last two seasons, he’s also statistically been the worst pitcher in baseball. My favorite team, also happens to currently be one of the worst in baseball. On Saturday night, Tim Lincecum threw a no-hitter. No-hitters are very rare, just a couple a year at most. But it happened. It shouldn’t have. But it did. And it gave me hope. Our process of trying to make a baby, start a family, and begin the next chapter in our lives, has often felt like a losing season. No matter how much we’ve practiced, how hard we’ve fought, we’ve come up short in our quest for a baby. Personally, I try not to dwell on our misses and focus on winning the next game. I try to stay positive. I know it’s out there. I know it’s possible. I keep believing. And that’s what’s getting you through all of this too, isn’t it? Whether it’s your family or God or baseball (unless it’s the LA Dodgers), you’re believing in something. It may be elusive, but that’s the amazing thing about life. As in baseball, there’s always a chance. I don’t care how many times we lose, one of these days our luck will change. We will win. We will start our family. We will pitch our no-hitter. After all, stranger things have happened. Just ask Tim Lincecum.