Another day, another celebrity announces a life milestone that makes the headlines. We revel, rather nosily in the lives of the rich, famous or infamous, who are raised a level above us, and we hold in some sort of weird awe, despite that fact that under neath all the glitz, glam, fake tan, money and fancy lifestyle, they are still just human beings like the rest of us. They all have their flaws, they all poo and pee like the rest of us (well, apparently Gwyneth Paltrow doesn’t but she’s just very odd!) and they may seem perfect and to have it all, but of course they don’t.
I don’t normally pay attention to much celebrity news, because not being much of a tv watcher, now, I don’t know who half or more of them are, that appear regularly in magazines and on my social media feed. But there are still famous people that I know and recognize and may even admire.
The actress Eva Longoria announced this week she is pregnant, with her first child. I read the news, and it made me smile.
Why?
Partly because I like her as an actress and I am at the stage where I can be happy for other people when they share pregnancy news. I am sure she and her husband are thrilled and I hope all goes well for her pregnancy and birth.
But also, it gives me a sense of ridiculous hope. I know that is weird. I am not really allowed to hope now. We are pretty sure that this crappy body of mine does not want to play the game, and what was hoped for. We talk about it in the past tense, now, and not the future plan.
But I am not ready to give up hope yet. I am not there, resigned to it yet. There is a wistful, still wishing bit of me inside, that hopes that the miracle can happen. I know it probably won’t but I am not ready to let that go, just yet. I haven’t thrown away the baby stuff we have still stored.
You see, Eva is a few months, almost a year older than me. She gives me hope. To be fair, I know that sounds crazy. She has all the healthcare money can buy, shes fitter than me, and of course, I don’t know that she hasn’t had help to get pregnant (and there is no judgment from me on that, at all, I have swallowed pills, peed on many sticks, scheduled sex, had scans, injected myself with hormones and used all sorts of methods to try and give my children the sibling they would have loved) and I don’t know her fertility history.
But it still gives me that teeny bit of hope. Because after all, she may be famous, she may be rich, but she still is just a human being, and if she can have a baby at her age, which is not really considered “that old” any more, then maybe, just maybe, there is the teeniest sliver of hope, still left for me…
So, I smiled when I read the news, and I wish her well, and congratulations, and I still hold on to the hope inside, just for a few months longer. I am not there yet, I am not ready to let go…
*These posts are generally my form of cathartic therapy. Please think before you comment. I do not need fertility advice or input on how to get pregnant or what we should or should not have done or the path we chose to follow. Thank you*