Whispers Of Hope

...Jenna POV...

Hope is that little voice that you hear whisper 'maybe' when it seems the entire world is shouting 'no.'

But it also is that tiny little voice in my head that says that I cannot do this.

I am terrified.

I know that Tyler means well, but it is hard to keep hope when you are walking up to a chair that you did not think you would ever see in your life. I thought that something like this would never happen to me.

Well, it seems that we were wrong.

What else is wrong is me not wanting Tyler to be here with me while I sit all alone in this room as they pump god knows what in my veins in the final attempt to give me that hope. All I can be for certain about now is what will happen for the next couple of hours and for days after this.

I will need to get really sick to get well.

Where is the logic in that? Where is the logic in an illness that ravages your body, and then once it is done, you either get another shot, or you need to bid a farewell? But what illness also takes your body when you have another life apart of that of your own growing inside of you?

The only reason why I am sitting in this chair is that I want to give my babies a fighting chance, and to give that fighting chance, I need to find that hope, that faith, that prayer deep inside me that I am fighting and that I am fighting hard enough.

But I cannot fight this alone, so I take that pride that I foolishly think I need to have, and I stick it in my sock and call for the nurse to get Tyler to come to sit with me. Yes, our relationship is just as rocky as our future, but right now, the only man that can get me through this is him.

So as I watch him make slow, steady, and very nervous strides up to my chair, I cannot help but for a brief moment smile.

"Hey."

He reaches his trembling hand out to mine, not sure if he is supposed to be touching me or not. If I thought that I was scared, Tyler is near to turning at death's bed himself. How can I have been so foolish to believe that we should be doing this alone?

So with not many words spoken, I close my eyes and fall my head back against the softness of the chair. Tyler, who finds it hard to compose one calm breath, takes a hand and rests it upon a very shaky leg.

"You are going to be okay."

He tries to reassure me under a stuttering mumbling while he is trying the best to hide the tears that are starting to crack through his voice.

I think it is going to be a long way still before we find that strength. Hope, yes, that we do have, but as for any other emotion, our bodies are pretty numb to the pain right now.

This is not how I saw my life to go; yes, this sucks. It sucks beyond words. If I have to go today, I am just glad that I have lived a life so full of love, joy, and amazing friends. I am lucky to honestly say that I have zero regrets, and I spent every ounce of energy I had living life to the fullest. And this life I would not have been able to live if it was not for Tyler.

If I have to go today, I can say that I am no longer in the crappy body that turned against me.

Cancer may have taken almost everything from me, but it never took my love or my hope or my joy. It is not a battle, it is just life, which is often brutally random and unfair, and that is simply how it goes sometimes.

If I have to go today, I don't want to say that I lost to cancer. I did not lose.

But what is most important, I am unbelievably lucky to have spent so much time with the love of my love and my best friend, Tyler. True love and soulmates do exist.

Every day with him is full of hilarity and love. He is genuinely the best husband in the universe. He never wavered when so many people would have run. Even on my worst days, we find a way to laugh together. I love him more than life itself, and I truly believe that a love like that is so special it will last forever.

Time is the most precious thing in this world and to have shared my life with Tyler for so long is something I am incredibly grateful for. He is my world, and I love every second we have together more than words.

Life is a fragile adventure; we should never forget that every day matters.

I know that it sounds like I have given up; it is not a question of giving up; perhaps it is just being realistic. Realistic is to think why do I have to fight this?

I am fighting for two small little persons that cannot fight for themselves. How must I fight for something that I cannot see? How must I fight for something I cannot feel? Yes, this is where I need to have faith.

But faith is hard. Digging for faith when you stare at a needle in your arm is really hard. Life is hard. Fighting is hard. But faith is even harder.

And as I watch Tyler that has not taken his eyes off the drip, I know that he carries it for both of us. But that is a burden too hard to bear. How can I expect him to do it for us both? I need to stop doubting myself, but that is really hard to do.

What else is hard to do is holding back the tears. I want so desperately to burst out in tears and not stop until my body is weak and dry. What else I want to do is get really angry. Why does this have to happen to me? Why now? Why can I not just get a break? What have I done so wrong that I need to deserve this?

If I have to go today, I will leave behind so many people that are hurt and broken. Why do I have to be the one that is doing this to them? The hand that I have been dealt is not fair. The hand that my babies has been dealt is not fair?

There lies the biggest fear in me that because of my Cancer, I will take the life of something so small. I do not think that I will be able to live with myself then.

I knew ever since I was a little girl that I wanted to be a mother. I hoped that one day I would have the privilege of being called "mom." It is a bit surreal to know that this dream of mine is happening. Some days I can't help to think how thankful I am that they have chosen us to be their parents.

For years I have been waiting and praying for them, and I feel so blessed to know that they are on their way to us. Even though they are only in my tummy, my love for them is so strong. I want to protect them, take care of them, nurture them, provide for them, and above all, love them. I hear that there is no type of love like a mother's love for her sons and a son's love for his mother. I know already that they will be a real mama's boys.

If I were to ask for anything, I would ask that they be patient with me as I grow into the mother they needs me to be. I need them to forgive me for my imperfections and know that I am doing my very best every day. I want them to know that I love them. Incredibly, we have not even met yet, and I already feel like I would walk through fire for them. I can wait until we meet until I can hold and hug them.

But if I were to ask for anything more, I would like to task that they forgive me for this. That they forgive me for the Cancer. I know that this must be hurting them just as much as it does me, if not even more. I need them to forgive me for giving them this; I never meant to hurt them.

So if there is any reason for hope, then it is for them. I will find hope for my little baby boys.

I know the journey we have ahead of us is going to be the most amazing but also the most difficult one. There will be ups and downs. The happiest of times and the most testing. But I need to remind myself whom I am doing this for. The three most important men in my life. So yes, hope is what I need to have.

Hope is that little voice that you hear whisper 'maybe' when it seems the entire world is shouting 'no.'