Hope is my youngest daughter’s middle name. We chose it as a reminder of the journey from cancer and back. Hope pulled us through the days of doubt. It was a beacon that rested on faith. After the last chemo session hope gave us something to hold onto.
In those days, we didn’t know if we would be able to have children. When we learned that we would, hope fueled our lives. For new beginnings. A fresh start.
But hope had other things in store for us. It created not one but two lives inside me. We were stunned. Happy. Afraid. Two cars at 16, two college educations, two weddings. It was overwhelming and glorious all at once.
When it came to naming these blessings, I knew in my heart what we needed to do. Our first-born would take Faith as her middle name. We had to have faith to see us through the cancer battle. Our second would have Hope. For hope gave us the courage to start a family.
Hope gave me strength to endure a 38-week pregnancy and three blood transfusions.
Hope answered my fears about motherhood.
Hope saved me.