On Succos, we gather our crops, reflect on our harvest. In life, we gather our experiences, appreciate what we’ve gained

"It’s twins!”

“No way!” I was giggling so much that it was difficult for the sonographer to complete the exam.

We left the doctor’s office clutching a yellow Post-it Note on which the sonographer had jotted down the large disparity in weight between baby A and baby B. It was the beginning of an arduous journey into the dark tunnel of the medical complications.

Doctors made predictions. Doctors ordered more tests. Doctors warned us of many possible worst-case scenarios.

The experience of carrying a baby who may not be healthy was gruesome. Every night I’d feel the babies kick and try to track where the stronger, bigger baby was… and where the feeble, helpless kicks and movements were coming from.

It was a trying time. I cognitively and consciously tried to put the crown back on Hashem’s Head, to let go and let myself be led. I knew I wasn’t in control, and I was grasping for optimism, light, and support. Yet I was hesitant to share my journey with others.

I chose to hope and daven that all would be well. I didn’t want to verbalize, or even think about, the unfathomably painful possibility that baby B might not make it.

I confided in just one friend, who recommended that I start listening to Rabbi Ashear’s daily living emunah message. I needed every zechus I could get, so I signed up and dutifully listened every day to the short message of emunah. It was usually sprinkled with anecdotes and stories that seemed fluffy and unreal. But I forced myself to listen.

Hearing words of chizuk was a different experience than the reading and learning I’d done previously. It somehow circumvented my natural skepticism. The lilting voice, the engaging stories, the easy-to-hear messages…. They planted seeds deeper than ever before.