Sunday night was terrifying to me. Having heard on Sunday morning that only two of our embryos had divided, I had quiet fears that my worst nightmare (of IVF#2 which ended up cancelled) was recurring. That by Monday the two growing embies would have stopped too and we would have no precious embabies to put back. Sunday night was like a re-enactment of the night before retrieval, where I cried and cried and cried. Poor Chris just held me close, there were no words that would help, but his warmth and caring and special touch were just what I needed to calm me enough to sleep.
I woke up on Monday morning, the morning of retrieval, and the day light had eased so many of the fears. Monday was also my Mom’s birthday, well would have been if she hadn’t stepped out. So I wanted to buy a special candle to light in her memory. I didn’t want to light a candle to commemorate the anniversary of her suicide, that seems to sad and too much focus on her death rather than on her life. Anyway, I digress. So I headed out to a gorgeous little shop near our house that specialises in candles, and mementos and vases and candle holders etc etc etc. You know the stuff your hubby probably calls ‘tat’, well mine does anyway.
And I browsed the store. I ended up spending ages in there, I think I must have looked at every single thing they sell. This would be the first candle I light for my Mom, I wanted it to be just right. I wanted it to be green like her eyes, but I didn’t want a run of the mill candle. Well I was thwarted, I ended up with a simple green candle, but when I got home I put it into a glass which she had burnt a candle in for her long dead love of her life about a year before she died. It seemed appropriate, because on the days where I can bring myself to think that there might possibly be an afterlife, I like to think that my Mom has finally found peace in the arms of this long dead love being watched over by my Gran.
But the other reason I spent so much time in that store was because I wanted to buy myself some hope. How crazy does that sound? Do I sound like the kind of fruitcake I make fun of on my more sane days? I have seen these Willow Tree Angels and I had a notion that maybe there would be something like that, but without the religious connotations, that could represent Hope and would help me hold onto Hope and give me Hope. I looked at every Angel, every Fairy, every plate, key ring, plaque, mug… you get the idea. Nothing seemed quite right. Nothing felt solid enough. It all seemed too fragile, just like my hope for our babies, fragile! I ended up not buying anything. I was thinking I AM crazy, you cannot buy hope!
But this concept has been on my mind every since. And I have an idea, I want to make my rock of hope. I have been using this as my avatar since setting up my blog and it really does symbolise something more solid, solid as a rock. Sturdy, reliable and if I can find the right rock I will be able to carry it with me. So I think I will be invading my Hubby’s workshop this weekend to make my Rock of Hope.
On a separate note, I have to tell you how totally over the moon thrilled to bits I am for my cyber buddy over at http://angelsonmymind.blogspot.com/ who has just received news of her BFP! Her and her hubby have been trying for 12 years. She has been through hell and back and now has a perfect AWESOME beta! If that doesn’t give me hope…