I am not a good writer at all, but I want to share my journey.
I don’t know where my journey began: when I met my husband Chris, or when we spent 5 fabulous years of marriage and are about to grow our family, or when my mum became sick. In any case, here I am, two weeks into the IVF treatment.
I am healthy as you can be, so is my husband. We did not see this coming at all. We didn’t make a big deal out of it either and simply said “fine, if that is what’ve got to do, that’s what we will do”, almost like the doctor told us to take an ibuprofen for a headache. Three weeks in, I am still not sure this has sunk in. I guess I’ve got bigger problems to deal with.
My mum has been diagnosed with incurable cancer almost 3 years ago. She is very lucky to be a patient of this state of the art hospital with access to the latest drugs, but it is abroad. She has been doing chemotherapy for 3 years and nothing seems to be helping and recently the tumours are growing. My dad passed away unexpectedly a year ago and since then my mum has been battling cancer all alone. I don’t have any siblings and all of my family live in yet another foreign country. It is by far the most painful, difficult and sad experience of my life as both of my parents have always been and will always be my biggest fans and the source of the biggest love I ever felt.
I desperately want my mum to meet her grandkid and I desperately want my kid to meet my mum. But I cannot help thinking that I am running out of time.