mother's day.

I missed out on Mother's Day 2010 by a few weeks, very heavily pregnant with Jack, developing a lovely case of PUPPS, and just trying to get a few hours sleep a night through the heartburn, so this is my third Mother's Day. And as with everything, its meaning has changed for me. Again, I will NEVER be one of those people who say I'm so happy I got cancer, it changed my life...because, umm, hello, yes, it changed my life but I could do without that, thanks. I will admit it changed my perspective though. Now, don't get me wrong, I would love to get the mixer I've always wanted and promised myself, or maybe the ring I've been coveting for 10 years now, a surprise getaway, or hell, a card and some flowers would be spiffy. Okay, so I still have mortal wants and desires, cancer doesn't make you a saint people, but overall, while some mothers are out there bemoaning their lack of gifts or time to sleep in or breakfast in bed, I am content with the sheer existence of the fact that I'm here and I'm privileged to get to mother these kids. God willing, I get to spend many more mother's days with them, ingesting the fact that I have had another year to know them, for them to know me. When I was still in the "fog of war" right after my diagnosis, when I was walking around with the 1,000 yard stare, one of the first things that scared me terribly, one of the first things that I cried to my husband was not about me per se, but I sat there looking at him, pleading with him, that "I can't leave Jack, he doesn't even know me yet." The tears flow just thinking about that, because I can relive that moment all too clearly in my mind.

While I strongly believe now that I will be around for a while, I am assured of the fact that no one, not any one of us, knows what is going to happen, and that anything could happen at anytime, which is why I am still compelled to write these things. And I'm also here to reflect on and acknowledge the fact that my kids have endured a pretty shitty year themselves. For this, I have more unwarranted guilt than most can imagine.

Baby, I'm so sorry for this past year. I'm sorry that I got sick, I'm sorry that sometimes I was very sad and you didn't understand. I'm glad you didn't understand. I'm sorry that sometimes I got short with you, and it was not your fault - I was scared or sad or worried or tired and sometimes I am ashamed to say I yelled at you louder than I should have, or got mad at you for things I shouldn't have. I'm sorry that I couldn't play with you as much as I wanted, after two surgeries and chemo and radiation and a new baby. I'm sorry we couldn't do all of the cool and fun things that I have "pinned" for us to do. I'm sorry you got cheated out of a normal Halloween and Christmas. I'm sorry for this whole year.

You have been amazing through all of this, and you are a wonder to me. A year that would have been enough change for you just with your sister arriving, when just navigating the world of being 2 is hard enough, you had to deal with all of mama's crap too.

I pray you will not remember much of this year, that you will remember the 95% good and forget the 5% bad that keeps me up at night, and I pray we will never have to relive it. You don't know how much I look forward to watching you grow, how much the thought of you developing into a little man more and more each day gives me reasons... reasons for so many things.

My little girl, who I don't even really know yet, yet have known forever. My little mini-me. You surely did not ask for this, to be subjected to tests and poking and prodding and toxic poisons before you were even born. But you, my amazing, stunning little beauty came through with flying colors. I think all of our doctors knew you would be fine, they were all pulling for both of us so very much. But when I was in the prep room before going to the operating room to have you, the one nurse came in, and she, not knowing us, started listing all of the myriad things that may be wrong with you, insinuating that I should expect them to immediately whisk you away, terrifying me since up until then everyone was completely optimistic that you would likely need no intervention. She reiterated that the entire NICU team would be in the delivery room, waiting to pounce on you. Well, she didn't know you did she? You came out screaming and bright and pink and BIG for 35 weeks and 5 days. And you needed no help at all, as I knew you wouldn't. Everyone in that room was so happy, for both of us. I am so privileged that you chose me, even with all you had to go through to get here. I am so very eager to witness who you become. And also to see you grow into all of that tulle I have for you. :) Again, even though I didn't know it, you were exactly what mama needed.

To both of you, thank you - thank you for choosing me to be your mother, thank you for your resiliency and forgiveness, thank you for letting me into your world, thank you for bringing amazement to my world. No matter what happens, no matter where life takes our little family, always always remember the inimitable words of Christopher Robin:

"Promise me that you will always remember: you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think."

Situation report...

you'll have to excuse all typos and grammer mistakes, I can only type with my right hand, and on top of that i am left handed....I'm back, i'm home, i'm alive. i don't recommend this surgery as a vacation or anything but I guess as far as the surgery can go, it went as well as it could. nothing unanticipated happened or was discovered. i feel like i have been beaten hard with a baseball bat under my arm, which the doctor said was a very apt description. again, i was told i looked fantastic (i really want to know what i am supposed to look like, because seriously, i've never been told i look fantastic so many times in my life as since i've been sick...hmmmmm) i have two drains in, although am not draining a whole lot, which is good. i was up walking about 2 hours after surgery, although i will admit, i woke up in the recovery room crying in pain. i guess whatever they gave me finally caught up after that and it hasn't been terrible since. so basically, it is a sucky surgery, i don't recommend it, but it is manageable, considering i had all of my lymph nodes removed.

i have to thank all of the friends who have dropped off food, that has been so helpful. and i do have to give a shout out to the nurses at Kaiser Sand Canyon - between my nurses for the c-section and my nurses this week, i have received awesome care and everyone has been so nice which always helps your hospital stay. and finally thank you to the mama's who are feeding my baby...it's working well, at baby's 3 week appt she had gained 1.5 lbs and grown 1.5 inches!

onto more resting and healing and slowly getting my arm back! thank you for all of the good thoughts!!

This time was supposed to be my redemption...

I was so excited when I was having my son. I had some trouble getting pregnant, nothing major, just a couple months delay. Then I found out I was having a boy and that was it, that was all I ever wanted, a boy first, I didn't care what came after. I wholeheartedly admit I still was not the pregnant woman who "loved" being pregnant...especially as his eventual 9 lb 4 oz body filled my 5'2" frame, and as he decided he would laugh at his due date, and as I developed a lovely and full-body case of PUPPS the last week. I had all the plans, I would cloth diaper, I would have a natural birth, I would exclusively BF....the best laid plans of course.

And then I hit 41 weeks, and went in to be induced... still was going to do natural, but probably with an epidural. Then Jack's heartrate dropped for a good couple minutes and everyone freaked out and my fate was sealed. I had a c-section. I was in tears going in, I had failed. Having that c-section broke.my.heart. For someone that really wanted to do something a certain way, and missed out on it...please, if you have a friend or whomever that goes through this, please don't go on with the "as long as you got a healthy baby, it's not the end of the world, you didn't fail, you shouldn't be upset about this." Nobody validated my feelings or let me mourn the process I had missed and it hurt. For a long time. And it was physically painful as well, for quite a while. Cloth diapers were chucked out the window - I was lucky I could manage to lift this almost 10 lb giant high enough to change him. Then on to breast feeding. Well, Jack wanted nothing to do with it from the beginning. We went to LC's, however at 45 bucks a pop, I couldn't afford to visit every time he wouldn't latch at home, which was all the time. Milk came in late, it was all a mess. So I did what I knew I could do and I pumped - for a year, through a period when I had clogs everyday, through a week or two when I would sit crying into a pillow in my bedroom pumping because it hurt so bad. I did it, it was the most and the least I could do.

So this time was supposed to be my redemption. I had a doctor that fully supported an attempted VBAC. I would know the BF pitfalls this time and be ready for them, I would do the cloth diapers because I wouldn't be healing from another c-section. I would redeem all of the guilt that I had over Jack's birth and maybe try to heal a small part of me... one that isn't there all the time anymore but certainly exists. And then week 22 came. And again, every single one of those things were taken away. Again. And it makes me sad, and it hurts. And on top of that, some of the excitement of a new baby has been robbed from me too. My husband doesn't quite get that, and in some way I think holds it against me. But I've had to face a lot of things and thoughts in the past three months, thoughts that no one in this position can imagine, or sympathize with, so I can't blame him. Obviously after all of this I want a healthy baby, with all she has gone through. But I also need to mourn all of the things that have been taken away from me by all of this, by this cancer. That's why it's so difficult to even relate to people who have fought cancer but not while pregnant... there's a whole different set of game rules that apply to the pregnant cancer set. So I can't change anything, all I can do is try to process all of this the best that I can, and come out the other side, and be proud of all that I did accomplish during this time, and try to make peace with it all - again.