So, there I was, 9 years ago, still hopeful, and waiting for my op.
June arrived, and with it the annual 3-day spinning and weaving holiday for my Mum and me. It isn’t all crafting; there’s plenty to see and some lovely walks through the rose gardens and along the side of the river – ideal for an afternoon stroll on a hot early summer’s day, or even before breakfast if it’s mild enough.
It was really odd, walking along with my Mum, desperate to tell her what we were going through but at the same time not wanting her to know until we had some Good News to tell.
What kept me going was picturing their faces, hers and Dad’s, as we made our Happy Announcement! Oh, they would have been so thrilled. There would have been such joy! How many children do you suppose are born into this world unwanted and unloved? Why should it be that when there are prospective parents and extended family just aching to have their empty arms filled with children that they are denied to them, and yet others who have one-night stands or have had enough children or never even wanted them in the first place manage to fall pregnant so easily and are devastated in a different way?
How many children do you suppose are born into this world to a lifetime of abuse? Why should it be; where’s the logic? The babies are born to people who don’t want them whereas we are crying out for them and being refused.
I know that life isn’t supposed to be fair, but – it’s not fair.