I was hoping that we wouldn’t have to hear the words, “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t look good”.
I was hoping that the fact I was fitter and healthier would make a difference.
I was hoping that all the low moods, nausea and complete exhaustion was a good sign.
I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to experience this again.
I was hoping that five pregnancies would end with two beautiful babies and not just gorgeous Little Miss H.
I was hoping that my bedtime reading would not be information about recurrent miscarriages and the tests and treatments available.
I was hoping that when we move house the third bedroom could become a nursery.
I was hoping that I could start buying maternity clothes.
I was hoping that 2015 would be the year we became a family of four.
I was hoping to be able to make Little Miss H a big sister.
I was hoping that in December Mr H would become a daddy again.
I was hoping that this time would be different.
Yet, I haven’t given up hope. Until I am told otherwise, I will believe that I can have another baby.
I know I am lucky. We have a beautiful daughter. She is our world.
If Little Miss H is all there is. If we have no more children. Then we are blessed.
But I was hoping that this time would be different.
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