When we were trying for a baby, I clung to this word hoping against hope that it would happen.
When we finally successfully fell pregnant I hoped that the pregnancy would hold.
I hoped for a safe birth.
Then I started hoping for another baby.
Year after year. When it didn't happen, I still grasped this word.
In the lead up to operation number 5, I hoped it would be okay. I hoped the lump they removed was benign. I hoped my husband would see things MY way for a change and most of all I hoped that we would eventually have another child.
Fast forward nearly four years later and those hopes and dreams of mine have faded but still this word that has been such a huge part of my life; surfaces to my mind.
I started thinking over the weekend that with my next operation there will be no more babies. It will be the start of a new life for me and yet I am living in the past holding onto a word that no longer holds meaning for me. Then something happened...
Placing something into the display cabinet and next thing I know my sweet Angel of Hope suddenly jumps out and lands onto the tiles. As her head rolled across the floor, my heart plummeted and I sunk to the ground as tears threatened to well. It wasn't about the cost, or the fact she was a gift from my BFF. To me it was a sign that all hope was lost. I am essentially handing it back.
Thankfully my hubby is a little bit handy and he came to the rescue with a spot of superglue and much cussing.
My little angel stands tall once more - her head a little wonky - but she continues to shine hope from her small lantern.
Today I realised that I too will go on. I face this next chapter in life with the gusto I have always held toward my infertility battles. I will hope that I breeze through this operation. I will hope for a better, pain free life afterward and I most of all I will hope that my new path brings me opportunities never before dreamed of.