Baby 1.0

When life deals you a bad hand, the best thing to do is to play that hand the best way you know how.

When Hannah and I got married, we had dreams. We dreamed of a life working overseas in the developing world, we dreamt of a future that involved getting old together and building a family together. Our dreams were shattered 4 1/2 years ago when I was diagnosed with cancer, and then shattered again with the first relapse.

We began to pick up the pieces each time, and assemble them into a mosaic. Formally a fractured, broken dream, slowly being re shaped into something new, something different, yet still retaining the original image. Then, one year ago, that rebuilt mosaic was shattered once again with yet another relapse, each blow some how being more definitive than the previous.

That third blow hurt, it hurt harder and it hurt longer than any other…

Yet somehow letting it be the defining moment of my life didn’t seem right. It determined my future, yes; I will die from cancer, but so what?

We all die; some of us sooner than others.

And I know I have been blessed with the life I have lived, and the time I have had since my diagnosis. When I realise that it isn’t all about me, then life is so much easier.

There is freedom in releasing yourself from yourself…. in living for others and not the glorified me.

To which came the decision to let life keep living…..

Hannah and I decided to undertake IVF last year as I didn’t want to leave Hannah at age 40 wondering what if?… and so in the realisation that life is about the journey, and not the outcome, we decided to bring another life into ours.

It hasn’t been easy, we had 3 failed embryo transfers before a successful 4th. The ups and downs of waiting to see if the blastocyst would implant was a roller-coaster of hope and disappointment. In fact, we thought the 4th was unsuccessful as well, until an unexpected text message in the middle of the day from my wife saying:

‘I can’t ring you cos i’ll just cry… I’m pregnant!’.

And with that we have rejoiced in the joy of bringing new life into the world, while at the same time bringing emergency toast to the bed before the vomiting begins. It’s ironic that new life can be so nauseating. 🙂

Sometimes we have a competition to see who can vomit the most in a single day, the guy with chemo, or the lady who is with child.

Celebrate with us please, as we celebrate and cry ourselves about what the future holds. This decision isn’t without consequence, this child will probably never really know its biological father, but I plan on giving him or her a legacy that will endure.

Until next time….