By Laura Johnstone
Writing has always been a lifeline for me. As someone who didn’t learn to read until I was 13 and who now finds deep meaning in storytelling, I’ve discovered that words can offer what sometimes people cannot—space to breathe, to process, to heal. And during one of the most emotionally complex times of my life—my pregnancy—I turned to poetry, not because I felt like a poet, but because I needed somewhere to place all the fear, hope, love, and pain I was carrying.
My daughter’s pregnancy was high risk. From the moment we were told things weren’t going to be straightforward, I found myself thrust into a world of medical language, uncertain scans, and ticking clocks. I felt alone, even when surrounded by love. I was terrified, even when told to “stay positive.” I needed something that would help me hold space for all those emotions—something I could shape with my own hands when everything else felt out of control. That’s where Holding Hope came from.
Poetry as Therapy
The act of writing a poem is deeply therapeutic. It’s not just about rhyme or structure—it’s about putting feelings into a container that doesn’t break when you drop it. It becomes a place to pour your tears, your fears, your whispered prayers. For me, writing Holding Hope was a way to honour the raw strength it takes to carry on when you don’t know what’s coming next. It became a tribute not just to my own experience, but to every parent walking a difficult path in pregnancy.
“Holding Hope” – A Poem for Parents Facing High-Risk Pregnancy
By Laura Johnstone
This road you walk is steep and slow,
With questions asked no parent should know.
Each scan, each test, each whispered fear,
Feels like the weight of the world is near.
You count the days, the kicks, the signs,
And pray for peace between the lines.
You clutch your heart with every call,
And find new strength when you feel small.
Your love began before the start,
It beats within your guarded heart.
Though shadows try to cloud the way,
You carry light from day to day.
Not every journey is straight or clear,
But courage lives alongside fear.
The waiting hurts, the unknowns bite,
Yet still you rise and still you fight.
You are not weak for tears you shed,
Nor for the countless thoughts you’ve said.
Each moment passed, each breath you take,
Is proof of all the love you make.
And though the path is tough and long,
Know this: you’re doing nothing wrong.
You’re building hope with every mile,
And dreaming dreams behind each smile.
So take it one soft step, one breath,
And trust yourself through life and death.
No matter where this story goes,
Your love is real—it always shows.
Sharing the Words
At first, this poem was just for me. But when I read it back, I realised how many other parents might need to hear those words too. The ones counting down days, sitting in hospital waiting rooms, holding their breath with every phone call. If you’re reading this and you’re in that space, I hope you know—you’re not alone. You’re doing an incredible job.
Whether your story ends in heartbreak or healing or both, your love is real. Your hope matters. And writing it down—whether in a journal, a poem, or even a message to a friend—can be a powerful part of your journey.
Call to Action
If Holding Hope speaks to you, please consider sharing it with someone who may need it. Poetry can be a bridge between silent hearts. And if you’d like to read more or support my journey, please like, share, and subscribe to the blog so we can continue reaching parents who need a voice to walk beside them.
References
Tommy’s: www.tommys.org – Supporting high-risk pregnancies Sands: www.sands.org.uk – Support for baby loss and bereavement Birth Trauma Association: www.birthtraumaassociation.org.uk – Emotional support after traumatic birth
The bad and your parenting journey 