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My Hopes

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve felt like I’m walking around with a backpack full of weights. Literally. I fall asleep on the couch every evening, I am constantly worrying, and I just feel defeated. But I’m working on changing that. I’m trying my hardest to pull myself out of it… to put on my “big girl” panties and deal with it. I know I can. I know I need to remain positive.

I sat down to make a list of my worries. But instead, I’m choosing to make a list of my hopes. After all, “worrying is stupid. It’s like walking around with an umbrella waiting for it to rain.” (Wiz Khalifa)


I hope that my husband, Reid, gets a liver soon. And recovers well from the liver transplant. I hope that his health significantly improves from a liver transplant, and his PSC does not come back.

I hope that I never have to utter the words “Reid has cancer” to anyone. Ever. I hope that he is that 10%... I mean, we do seem to hit the small odds.

I hope that Reid and I are able to have two babies. I hope that we are able to raise them together, and we will both see them grow old and have babies of their own.

I hope that by sharing our infertility journey, we have helped others to not feel so alone through their own journey.

I hope that our friends and family understand how much we truly, deeply, appreciate their support. We wouldn’t be standing without all of them.

I hope that our babies are never forgotten. I loved each of them so much, even though I never got to meet them.

I hope that my husband never gives up on me. I hope that he keeps pushing me to be positive, but allowing me to feel sorry for myself when I need just that.

I hope that people don’t start thinking I’m a Debbie Downer, always having bad news to share.

I hope that our friends and family are always there to support us along this journey.

I hope that I don’t miss out on all of the important parts of other people’s lives because I’m so consumed by my own.

I hope that my sister never has to feel the pain that I have.

I hope that if we end up going through IVF (which is the plan), I don’t turn into a total crazy person. High doses of hormones pumped into my body? It’s quite possible I lose my mind.

I hope that the conversation around infertility continues to change, and that others feel more comfortable talking about it. It is a disease. And those going through it need the help of others.

I hope that I never lose touch with our infertility support group, and that each couple in the group ends up being a “success story”.

I hope that we start to receive some good news, sooner rather than later.

I hope that most days I am able to focus on the positive, and start to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I hope that I can chose faith over worry.


I am choosing to have faith, I am choosing to hope for the best, not expect the worst. I will have days where I struggle with that, for sure. Even as I type this I have my doubts that I can fulfill this promise, but I’m putting it out there so others can hold me accountable. I will still need those days where I just have a pity party for myself – but I cannot get stuck there. Things will get better. We will receive good news. I am determined to have good news to share and I know we will all celebrate that good news with more joy that I can even imagine. I so look forward to those days. For now, I’m holding on to hope.


Hope means that we must trust and wait for what is still unseen - Romans 8:24

Comments

  1. This reminds me of the song "I have this hope" by Tenth Avenue North. It has meant a lot to me this year and I HOPE it will bring you the same. :)

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