Hope

I am natural born worrier. I can’t help it. It’s what I do.

I worry that the cancer will come back. I worry about my mum’s forgetfulness. I worry that we won’t be able to have more children and that Jake will never have a brother or sister.

It would have been so easy for me to give up fighting when I was ill. To say “Enough, I can’t do this anymore”, but I couldn’t. I had to fight, I had to stay around for my little boy. I did. I fought, and I won round one. I fought and I won round two.

It wasn’t easy. It was by far the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. In fact, I would rather give birth again (with just gas and air I might add!) than have another bone marrow biopsy.

Today, marks the one year anniversary of me finishing chemotherapy. It doesn’t feel like it. It seems to have gone so quickly. Neil came with me that day. I’d made cupcakes for the nurses. I left, and it felt like an anticlimax. I don’t know what I expected,  but it just felt weird.

Now, I hope. It’s all I can do. I hope that the cancer doesn’t come back. I hope my mum’s forgetfulness is just her being scatty. I hope that soon, we can give Jake a brother or sister (preferably sister if that’s doable at all).

So whilst I worry, I also hope, and I don’t think that’s a bad place to be.

When the world says, “Give up,”
Hope whispers, “Try it one more time.”
~Author Unknown


Advertisements

One thought on “Hope

  1. Roz that is so beautiful, sad and yet full of a hopeful and very possible future. I love and admire your strength xxxx

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s