Tuesday, October 14, 2014

The Latest

I've been kind of quiet on the blog the past few months. Actually, that's not entirely accurate. I have written posts, but not published them. Didn't feel right.

But I guess it's time I did publish one. So here goes. What is happening in the life of this cancer survivor?

It's October and it just dawned on me that a few weeks ago, we passed the 4th anniversary of finishing up chemo. Sometimes it feels like every month holds a different kind of cancerversary. Fortunately, they are going more and more unnoticed.

School is in full swing, I am working in 3 different schools, and trying to keep up. We are on our last day of no screens and no sports for Judah after his scary concussion last week. It was up there in my top 3 most panic-inducing experiences since my journey with parenthood began. I don't even want to go into detail reliving it, I'll just say he is back to himself in all aspects. I'm not sure I'm ready to send him out into the world of recess and gym and soccer and outdoor play without a helmet, but I'll do my best.

Which brings me to The News in our house at the moment: if all goes as we are hoping and planning for, we are quite thrilled (as well as shocked and slightly terrified) to be expecting a baby brother for Judah to join the family in February. It still doesn't feel possible, and there are still some moments when the excitement turns to fear. After working on this for the past 5 years - through cancer and surgeries and procedures and medications, more blood tests than I could ever count - I was much more emotionally prepared for this to NOT happen. So I'm still getting used to the idea that it IS happening.

I finally feel movement each day (this baby already moves more than Judah did...) and that is reassuring. But I haven't lost the nagging suspicion that something bad is lurking around the bend.

While I am very, very glad that things are progressing well and the baby is growing right on target, I do not, by any means, feel safe or certain that everything will continue in that direction. The cancer ptsd definitely rears its head at times like this. Not even that I'm focused on the cancer returning (or a new cancer sprouting), but more that life is so unpredictable. There always seems to be a new danger to fear, waiting for the moment my guard is down.

I've been fairly protective of this information for the past few months, mainly sharing with people upon seeing them. Dan would describe me as pessimistic, anxious, and irrationally superstitious. But I have made some progress in the spirit of being optimistic. I knitted a blanket (Judah's idea). And I have even written a few times in a journal. Ha!

I can recognize that no matter what happens, I would regret not enjoying this time.

Choosing hope.







4 comments:

  1. No child could ever move more than Judah! He was my lunch time entertainment.....good times, best of luck!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. First off, I love that you are still Roe (NTB). Second, I will always remember those lunches fondly. Greek salads for me, rice cakes with peanut butter and raisins for you. XO

      Delete
  2. Mazel Tov! You barely know me, I really know you, and I am so happy to hear your news, Mia. And you know, you give me hope. It's been 3 years since my husband died and I am still in the rocking boat. Maybe in the 4th year, like you, I will ride the waves better. Much love, dear one. -- mama's friend Iris

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, Iris. Thank you for your kind words. I'm sending you all good thoughts for a healing year to come. The 4th year seems to be the one where I've begun to miss the anniversaries. So there is hope yet.

      Delete