Hope

An odd, unfamiliar feeling has come over me over the past couple of days, especially since yesterday. It's a feeling of lightness, replacing what I realise is a persistent heaviness. I think it's hope. We haven't been kicked down yet another snake yet; we are still hanging on to a rung on the ladder. As of yesterday, we still had four embryos. They'd survived since Saturday and today we'll find out if any of them are free of this unbalanced translocation. I realise that I've actually hated being alive these past three years. I know it is utterly ludicrous compared to people living with chronic or terminal illnesses, but I have actually hated being conscious this whole, entire time. My mind has not been able to stop thinking about our situation. From the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep, that's the dominate thought running through my brain. Every other activity offers only temporary distraction. You know it's got to be bad when you actually look forward, as I did on Friday, to the oblivion of a general anaesthetic. For half an hour or so my poor, exhausted brain was completely switched off, getting a much-needed rest from the never-ending battering of its own thoughts.