Eggs and Nick - Anticipation and Sadness

Tomorrow is the big day! I am due to go into hospital at 8am, and at some point they will poke around in my ovaries, hopefully pull out a few eggs (sorry, how big did you say the needle is??), and try to make some babies! I only want one, how hard can that be!!???? Actually the whole process, natural or IVF, is close to a miracle in my mind. Miracles are pretty hard...

Then, my long-suffering husband, who will agree to anything right now in my hormonal state, will indulgently whisk me off to the acupuncturist, who will attempt to "calm my energies and tune up my chi" or something, and then... we wait.. and see if any of the eggs will fertilise and can be put back on Thursday...

I feel six months pregnant already, my stomach is swollen up like a balloon, and I can hardly sit down without wincing. Nice! Part of me wants it all over, and part of me wants it not to start! I guess, like most things, the anticipation will be worse than the actual event.. Won't it??

So, today, 12th February, is a day of anticipation, and also sadness.

One of my closest friends died two years ago today from lung cancer. He was only 51. He had a wonderful wife, Jane, and two fantastic kids, Hannah and George. Hannah had to cope with a haemangioma on her face when she was born, (a big birthmark, that had to be removed with lazer surgery). As if that weren't enough, George was born with major bowel problems, and has just endured his 11th operation, age 7. Jane lost her father to cancer three days before her husband. Makes you wonder just how much pain one family can endure. Then I think about my husband and his family's story... amazing how much some people have to deal with.

Nick was always adamant that he "felt" I would have another child (he was very spiritual), we often talked about it. He had a certainty about things that was totally overwhelming. The only time he ever got that wrong was in his certainty that he would beat the cancer. We all believed that too, he had a way of knowing - so it came as a terrible shock to us when we lost him. Hannah was a bridesmaid at our wedding, and George was an usher, and they were so brave, having lost their Daddy just 10 weeks before. Jane has been an amazingly strong Mum, and they have come through this as such a close family.

So, a day of mixed feelings.

Excitement and trepidation about the procedure tomorrow, and the thought that in just a few days, I might be pregnant. Sadness that this date carries, for all of us who knew and loved Nick. A hope for new life, whilst remembering those we have lost. My husband and his family have had more than their fair share of loss in their lives, a pain my husband and his sister bear with remarkable courage.

The poem at the end of this post was read out at Nick's remembrance service, and I think it's beautiful, regardless of whether you have faith in God or not.

Nick - you were sure of life-after-death. You had absolute faith in the fact that you would pass over into a different place, and we would feel and know you are still here with us. Then you will somehow feel our thoughts today, know how much we all miss your gentle humour, strength and compassion for others.

Dance the skies safely, dear friend, and I hope you were right about the baby...

"Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds,

--and done a hundred things you have not dreamed of

wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence.

Hov'ring there, I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless falls of air...

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace

Where never lark, nor eer eagle flew--

And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod

The high, untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand and touched the face of God."