Hope. What a word. The longing or desire for something accompanied by the belief in the possibility of its occurrence. Pretty straight forward, right? Sometimes I don’t know. I’ve heard faith can do things when no one else can, but I don’t have faith. I’ve heard praying to God helps too, I don’t believe in God. Maybe choosing to not be negativity is a route for me, unfortunately I’m not choosing to be this miserable, I’m grieving. So the only thing I have left is hope. Hope that someday this will become easier. That someday I will be able to bare the thought my son not with me.
I try and remember the positives in life everyday; I have my partner Tim, our pets (A dog names Rogue and a cat named Skittles, along with Hermit Crabs that are named after the Land Before Time Crew, and the fish) I have my family even though most of them are across the country in Queensland. I have my friends, most are over in Queensland too. I have a roof over my head. My bills are paid. I have a few more weeks of parental leave yet. So what do I have to hope for?
I hope that I will learn to tell people without crying what happened to my son. I hope life is never this cruel again. I hope my flowers will grow. And I hope people will open up about Stillbirths and Miscarriages and Infertility along with SIDS. I hope one day I can share a photo of my boy and not worry that someone will be offended that the baby has died.
People hope every day, people have hope, people need hope and people inspire hope. I just anticipate the one day my hope will no longer be needed.