Hope Floats


Hope and I… we’ve had a very twisted relationship.

I remember back to the days when I thought I would always be the lucky one. I never “hoped” for anything really… I just “expected”.

In fact, if we are being brutally honest, when I look back on my life so far, I’ve had a bit of an easy ride. I took much for granted. And along the way, I was able to mow down any roadblock standing between me and any goal I set out to do.

Done and done. Everything had a fix.

I distinctly remember (after my 2nd miscarriage) having a total meltdown. How dare I be denied anything? Me? Are you kidding me??

I would shake my fist in the air and challenge the universe to stop me from succeeding.

[Picture Scarlett O’Hara… “As God is my witness… I will
never be (barren?) again!”
Ok, I fudged the barren part.]

But you know what? The universe still kept on slinging sh!t at me.

Which made me even more angry. The anger spilled over into everything I touched.

And then, something changed.

I became a weepy, introspective vision of my former self. I took off the battle gear and laid down my weapon.

I gave up.

Or so I thought.

I started hoping instead of fighting. I lit candles and prayed. I begged. I bought countless boxes of tissues and cried more than I ever have in my life. I made plans and then “hoped” they would work. I never assumed anything ever again.

With S. we set a plan. Do this, then that. And if we fail, then this. And then if that doesn’t work resort to Plan X,Y,Z. And then…

..and then?

So, seriously… when people outside of this blog hear my sob story of five miscarriages and failure… often they will comment about the strength I have to keep moving forward. And I hate that, because I don’t see myself as strong. Resilient? maybe. Strong? far from it.

At the root of it, I’ve held on to Hope. It’s been the ONLY THING that has gotten me from point A to point B. The only thread of consistency throughout all these years. And then it dawned on me…

Hope is strength in disguise. Just not as obvious.

So instead of wielding an ax ready to fight, I sit here at my desk holding onto Hope.

Even after everything…

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16 thoughts on “Hope Floats

  1. Hope is an amazing thing to hold on to. After 3 miscarriages and 1 ectopic, I never let go. I am now 27 weeks pregnant with my second son. I still can't believe it. That the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel finally found me is truly a miracle. I hope your light is getting stronger and easier to see too!

  2. I agree with Simple, you should write a book. Just FYI- I've been following your blog now for nearly a year, after doing a Google search for Mr. Dee's (the psychic) phone number, of all things! As a PCOSer, who has had the unfortunate experiences of a missed miscarriage, and later the Clomid crazies, and, eventually, the wonderful experience of having children, I thought "how fitting" that I would find a psychic's phone number on a blog about infertility! (Not that I ever called him anyway.) I share all of this, to let you know that I am hoping right along with you, as are dozens of other lurkers, I'm sure.

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