Skip to main content

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
Labels:

Comments

  1. cindi_watMay 2, 2017 at 7:53 PM

    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. :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Reid's health - Hospital stay #2

When I started writing this blog, it was dedicated to one topic – infertility and pregnancy loss. I guess that’s two topics, but very closely related. I did not think the type of miracle I would be impatiently waiting for would change. We now need a miracle for my husband, Reid. A month ago I shared that we were in the hospital and he had cholangitis. At that time, we knew that it meant his Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis (PSC) – an inflammation of the bile ducts in his liver – was progressing. But we weren’t sure by how much. So we had follow up appointments and procedures scheduled with his doctors. Next Tuesday he was set to go have a Spyglass procedure so we could see where he was. He had been feeling significantly better after his last hospital stay, and we thought things were looking much better. Early Wednesday morning he woke me around 3 a.m. with liver pains (yes, unfortunately he actually knows what liver pains feel like). We decided to come into the ER, given his last si
17 comments
Read more

After the Storm

I’ve stared at a blank page on my screen several times over the last few weeks, trying to find the words. Today I’m committed to sharing, no matter how those words come out. So please bear with me. Over the last few months, I’ve dealt with some serious anxiety. And I’ve avoided sharing. Because I had babies recently. And often the response is, “You’re a new mom, it’s normal to have anxiety.” And that’s true. It is normal to have “new mom” anxiety, and to have a new level of stress that comes with raising tiny humans. However, what I’ve been dealing with is so much more. I wake up in the middle of the night with a pit in my stomach and have to catch my breath. I often think about losing my husband or one of our babies, and I spiral into a pit of anxiety. Every time I walk up and down the stairs with a baby in my arms, I am anxious that they are suddenly going to throw themselves out of my arms and go over the railing. If Reid doesn’t do something for the babies the exact way I wou
1 comment
Read more

Our Tiny Miracle - Kaylee June

Let me tell you about a little girl who has stolen our hearts, but almost never came to be. After three natural pregnancy losses and two rounds of IVF (in-vitro fertilization), we started our third round of IVF in the summer of 2018. Two of our pregnancy losses were due to chromosome issues so we did PGS (Pre-implantation Genetic Screening – checking the chromosomes of embryos for abnormalities) testing for our first two rounds of IVF. All (4) of those embryos were deemed “abnormal”… they either had an extra chromosome or they were missing one. And they were all issues that were not compatible with life. So going into round 3 we were looking for a “fresh start”. To our surprise, our doctor (who is amazing at thinking “outside of the box”) suggested we forgo the PGS testing for our 3 rd round. Each of our chromosome abnormalities, including two of the pregnancy losses, were all different abnormalities (it was a different chromosome missing or extra each time). So he thought it wa
Post a Comment
Read more