It’s been a long time since I participated in Kathy (of Bereaved and Blessed)’s Time Warp but this month’s topic seemed too timely to pass up. That is because this month the Time Warp Tuesday theme is Hope.
I doubt there is another community that has such a strange relationship with hope. The ALI community loves and hates hope. We cling to it and push it away. We need it while we worry it might destroy us. Hope can lift us up and send us crashing down. Hope is tenuous and powerful and deceptive and wonderful all at once. Hope is hard to hold on to and even harder to let go of. Hope is well… hope.
I wrote this post on the eve of second attempt at TTC. I can’t believe that was in February. I can’t believe I wrote that post nine months ago. If I had known nine months ago where I’d be today, I wouldn’t have felt much hope.
And the truth is, I don’t feel much hope anymore. I’ve obviously lost all hope that having a second child will be a smooth and easy experience. I have lost all hope that even one part of our family building process will be what I expected. I’ve lost all hope that my family will look like what I expected it would look like. I’ve lost all hope that this second attempt won’t ravage our relationship, leaving it in tatters by the end.
I’ve lost all hope for any of those things because they’ve already happened in the ways I’d hoped they wouldn’t.
But I haven’t lost all hope that I’ll have another baby some day. I may never think the cycle we’re on will be the one but I do believe that some day, some cycle will be the one. And while I don’t have much hope that what I’m doing will increase our chances of conceiving, I still do those things.
And while I do have a slim hope that we’ll conceive on our own, I’ve made an appointment with an RE in case we can’t. So I suppose I do have hope that we could some day afford treatments, and that they may help us, if we need them.
So there is hope, it’s tenuous but it’s there. And I suppose it’s getting me through, because without it, this really would be a dark path to walk.
I have to admit, re-reading that post makes me sad. It’s sad to see where I was back then, nine months ago. It’s hard to see how much hope I harbored that it would be different. It’s hard to see how misguided I was. It makes me wonder if the hope I hold now is equally as misguided. It makes me wonder if someday I’ll look back at the hope written here and scoff at it like I scoff at the post written nine months ago.
I don’t want hope to make a fool out of me, but I also need it to get through, and that is why I’ll always despise hope as much as I need it.