Hope and patience inside a CONSOL bottle sealed with love and fairy lights.

 Hope for a brighter tomorrow and signs and signals indicated to me that we were pregnant, at only a fragile 6 weeks and looking better than I had expected. A few doctor visits and all up in arms over diabetes and my age of a young 41. It was rather a fragile time, and low and behold, I carried until I was 8 weeks, and we found that my baby was a blighted ovum. He came, he saw and gone again. Not long. But he was there and luckily I got to see him even if he was only 3.88mm. Very first time being pregnant and I was elated, and overwhelmed. I had changed all the plans I had for the year, and was just getting used to be my husband, and myself, with our budgie Alex. Now, after the miscarriage and procedure on the 21st of April 2022, I guess we back to just the three of us for now. I can't really say if that will be the end of the dream I have had since diagnosed with PCOS when I was 16 years old, or was it the metformin that I have been taken that took me to the beautiful 8 weeks that I was so willingly ready to give up, for the next 32 weeks of my life, to welcome our baby, but it was not to be. I am not depressed as such but I feel I need to get busy, cleaning and cooking and booking appointments and making sure we get to the diets and maybe this is a sign that I want to try again, and we will, and we should. I am only 41. We can give it one more try, but this time, we will have all our ducks in a row, paperwork in the file, and money in the bank. Or so I would like it to turn out. But we are wanting to leave to live overseas, and my husband and I are tired of our beautiful country and all it's flaws. We want some peace of mind. I wish I could take my family with me, and my gynae. But hubby, Alex and me. That's it, unless the little person wishes to come back and try again. As I sat at the hospital, waiting to go into an operation to evacuate the pregnancy, a feather flew my way and landed on my tummy. And the more I tried to remove it, the more it kept landing there. Eventually I looked at my now hungry and highly patient husband, and told him that this feather was the hope we longed for. Maybe he was not ready now but he will be, before this year is over. We will welcome the little bean with much delight and great enthusiasm. And do what is right, right away. No surprises yet. We need to be ready and we are. My husband and my mother has been exceptionally supportive during this time, and I thank them for everything that they have done during this time. My doctor who is in a wheelchair but super and so loving and giving. And lastly I suppose the friends that I did tell and stood with me through it all best way they knew how. However next time, it will just be me and Hubby until we hear a heartbeat. That's it. Or even when we are very far along. We need to protect the next one best we can. I am not much of a superstitious kind of person, but the next one, and successful one will be until the birth. That's it. Lesson learnt. Am I depressed? No not really. It was not like it was an abortion, even though it felt like it. It was more of saving my life, with an empty sac, making my blood pressure a little high. So there are diets to attend to, training our bodies, and losing some good weight, and getting this diabetes under control. Fixing teeth, and admin. We got things to do, and I am adamant that in 3 months, something will show up again, this time for the long run. For the rest of my life. Thank you for reading. I will write again, this one was a bit sad I must admit, but I know my little angel is flying high on the wings of angels. And we will see them again, in life or death. If there is anyone who needs to chat, regarding a similar situation, I am here, and my email and cell phone number is available to the lost ones we never even got to meet! Hope and patience inside a CONSOL bottle sealed with love and fairy lights. Gill.