Where do I begin? Hope is one of the strongest emotions I harbour. I live my life daily with hope in my heart that I’ll continue to be here for my children and my family and my friends. (and of course for myself).
When I was told I was going to die, my first thoughts, in fact hardly any of my thoughts were for myself. They were of course for my baby, my poor parents, my Michael and our amazing family.
I know from experience, that friends do grieve horrifically for the loss of someone they loved so much and I know I’m lucky enough to be adored by so many of my friends.
But you kind of don’t sense that their lives would be ruined if I died, life can go back to normal for the most part. For my child to lose her mummy and for my parents to lose their child, that’s life changing - forever.
So when I learned that was a possibility, the ground crumbled beneath me, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t talk, or move without shaking.
Literally every single scenario flashes through your mind in those moments, sat in the silent waiting room, hearing only ‘I’m so sorry, Roisin’.
You feel like you’ll throw up, you wonder how the hell you’re going to tell your parents that you’ve just been told you’re not going to recover this time? How on earth could your three-year-old possibly ever understand?
You feel disbelief…they have to be wrong, you feel powerless.
I clutched and pulled fists of Michael’s jumper into my hands, tears and snot all over him. Begged someone to change the words that I’ve just heard, apologise to Michael over and over but at the same time plead and plead with him to help me.
It is a torture that I swear, I would never wish on anyone. So once you’ve hit the absolute depths of despair, there’s only ever one thing you can cling to - HOPE. That shiny, beautiful, desperate word.
And I have it in abundance. After refusing to accept my incurable diagnosis and being told we could no longer adopt a little boy, I eventually made it out of hell and into ‘fight mode’. Going nowhere!
I sought out second opinions, changed my diet, became a human thesaurus for supplements that could help, I pushed and pushed for things the specialists told me were pointless, I clung SO TIGHTLY to my hope.
Of course there were dark, dark days (and there still are) but guess what?
After more chemo than I thought my body could handle, more surgery and radio and physio, more hope inside my heart and more of being my own advocate, scan after scan has shown NO EVIDENCE OF DISEASE!
Including my last one which came back last week. Oh that relief is like the best drug on this earth. Knowing I get to stay with my family for even longer - possibly for flippin' ever, is INCREDIBLE. Please cling to your hope, amazing things can happen.
Last year, after being told adoption was ‘no longer an option for us’, guess what? - we brought home our baby boy!
Always Have Hope.