Day 7 - A failure that you have had - And Day 8 - A Success

Well, obviously a failure I had was keeping up on this every day now wasn't it?

Oh goodness, who likes to talk about failures that they have had, even though they are usually where we learn our biggest lessons? I wish I would have had one of those grand failures that turn brilliant successes - like flubber or something. But alas, I have not - I think I am mostly composed of everyday failures that everyone beats themselves up about - the failures of a mother, a wife, a friend, a daughter...a human. Actually, one failure that I have had - I wish I would have allowed myself to fail more. When I was little, on top of being an extremely shy introvert...I was also terribly afraid of failing. Some things came so easy to me, primarily school and grades, etc., that if I wasn't completely certain that I could win something, or knew the answer, or could master it, I wouldn't try it. I truly believe that I missed out on many opportunities, or at least growth, from that, and that in itself is the biggest failure. As I've gotten older, I have had to force myself to try things when I am unsure of the outcome, and I still struggle with it, but I'm thankful that I recognize it and am trying to change.


A success I have had - I think one of the big successes I had in the past year was moving past my own comfort zone to put my personal story out there. If I could get one woman to avoid going through what I did by knowing the different signs of what to look for, then that is a success. If I got one mom to donate her excess milk instead of throwing it away, that was a great success to me. If I helped one of the pregnant moms with cancer that I have come across in the past year to navigate this cesspool of crap, then that was a great success. 

An open letter to Life & Style...

Photo: Life & Style Magazine

I'm sure you thought this was eye-catching, or funny, or somehow cute. I'm sure whomever wrote it thought, oh, here's a pithy one-liner, let's make fun of the hippy vegan and her crazy parenting ways. I'll admit, the picture of Alicia pre-chewing her son's food raised my eyebrow, but that was all the time I had to spare giving that any thought. And you are correct on one point - her milk-sharing program is not new. However, let's step beyond the blatant offensive racism in your allusion to wet-nursing slaves and discuss the real issues here.

I am not a lactivist. Personally, I don't care how someone feeds their child, as long as there is feeding of the child involved. You want to use formula, go ahead. My son received supplemental formula at night, as does my daughter occasionally. You want to nurse until your kid is four - more power to you because I could never have done that. What I am for is choice. I chose to nurse my son because I believe in the benefits of breastmilk- he never latched, so I pumped and he received my milk for a year. I intended to nurse my daughter, hopefully at the breast, at least by pumping. However, that choice was taken away from me in my 22nd week of pregnancy, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer.

Among the myriad other decisions that I had to make after diagnosis was one most pregnant women don't have to think about - how was I going to feed this child? Yes, I could have used formula, and I don't think the world would have ended, but considering this baby was going through chemo with me, I desperately wanted her to at least have all of the benefits that her brother had. I was introduced to a world most women don't know about until they need it - donor milk. My exposure to donor milk previously had been through celebrities who adopted babies and purchased milk from milk banks at prices I as a mere mortal, would never be able to afford. After reaching out to a blogger I follow for information, and finding out about such sites as Eats on Feets and Human Milk 4 Human Babies, I have been provided more help with acquiring donor milk for my daughter than any one person deserves to have. I have rarely had to worry about the amount of milk in my deep freezer,whereas other fellow moms who have fought cancer while pregnant have had to beg, plead and pray to keep their freezers stocked. These women who pump extra to donate to people they mostly do not know - women with adopted littles, women who have had surgery or are on contraindicated medication, women who have cancer - are my heroes. Any mother who has pumped knows that it is not easy, it is time consuming, can be painful - and to do that for a stranger is beyond amazing to me. They gave me a modicum of peace in a very dark time - they gave me choices back.

I just rocked my baby to sleep with her bottle of donated milk. She is 9 months old today. She is beautiful, healthy, and happy.

So Life&Style, not only are your facts incorrect - I'm am pretty certain wet nursing, and then pumping to donate, has been occurring since the Civil War-  but you mocked something that is dear to many of us and you belittled a beautiful gift that women give to each other. Alicia - thank you for giving women another avenue of choice - you are a class act. Life&Style, you should take note - classiness never goes out of style.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes....

How do you measure a year in the life?

I measured it in ultrasounds and biopsies, black masses, and sinking feelings.

I measured in it terror-filled hyperventilating half-breaths,
sleepless nights,
early mornings, deep breathing and doctors visits.

I measured it in MRI's and EKG's, blood tests, urine tests, blood sugar tests, finger pricks, and baby kicks.

I measured it in 16 rounds of chemo, hair strands falling out, rainbows of bandanas, and pre-natal non-stress tests.

I measured it in confused stares, loud whispers, grasped hands and prayers.

I measured it in perfect baby girl first cries, in surgery, in CT scans, in pathology reports, in interminable medical bills.

I measured it in help from strangers, kind words, unknown prayers and donor milk.

I measured it in rainy days, grey clouds, heat waves, and electric purple sunsets.

I measured it in stifled shower sobs,
in laughs with chemo nurses,
in baby toes and late night feedings.

I measured it in 33 days of radiation, deep burns, painful cries and peeling skin.

I measured it in a 38th birthday, a 49th for my husband, and an awesome 3rd birthday for my boy.

I measured it in stupid cruel comments, in beautiful gestures, in buckets of tears, oceans of hugs, and yes, cups of coffee.

I measured it in long walks with baby, laughs with my boy, hugs with my husband, and love from family and friends.

I measured it in renewed dreams, hungry views of travel, terrified glances over my shoulder, tentative plans for the future.

That's how I measured a year.

Updates.

My skin has degraded considerably since the last post so doing anything has been difficult and painful. It takes me enough energy throughout the day just to tolerate picking up the baby and then concentrating on not dropping her. Cannot wait for this part to be done, over with, and healed. Additionally, because I like to do many difficult things at once, like get pregnant and have cancer, baby and major surgery, etc. etc, I am also in the midst of getting ready for Jack's third birthday party this weekend. To be honest, I had no idea radiation would effect me like this and did not expect this at all, so this was just a bad coincidence.

In other news, had to mention this on the donor milk front. I have been ecstatic to keep Amelia in donor milk past six months, but have been hoping to make it to a year. I would hate for her to not have what Jack had, especially with what she contended with. But again, it's donor milk,  donated, not coming from me, so I am happy that we have made it as far as we have with her and forever grateful that Erin, my milk mama extraordinaire who coordinates this for me has done all of this work so far. That being said, we were lacking about two weeks ago, I mean down to the last two bags. All of a sudden, I don't know how Erin found her or vice versa, but this mama up in the LA area told her she had a one time donation - she had been pumping for her twins but they developed food allergies and couldn't use the milk. Erin happened to be going to a family member's graduation in the area and it was kismet. We were not, however, expecting this.

 

 

 

That freezer is filled to the absolute top with milk. There were even a few more bags that needed to go in our house freezer because the deep freeze was completely full. That should be good to keep baby going for about two months, which puts us that much closer to the year goal. Holy shamoley balls. Thank you mama, whomever you are.

 

Okay, I'm off to make more Mickey ears, which I will post pictures of along with the tutorial where I found the idea. Stay tuned.

How...

 

This is what I woke up to this morning. Late last night, we heard what I thought was someone dropping something heavy into the back of a pickup truck. What happened was a guy on the next street, who had many mental issues and was very much the oddball in the neighborhood - think a suburban unabomber - blew himself up (not known whether intentionally or accidentally) and left other unexploded pipe bombs around his house. All of my neighbors across the street were evacuated last night and police, fire, hazmat, FBI, and news trucks covered our neighborhood all day long. A police car was parked directly in front of my house, blocking the street, for the better part of today.

 

 

 

Then, after the kids went down for their nap, and right after our neighborhood drama had started to subside, I started seeing facebook posts about the Boston Marathon. Literally 15 minutes after I saw my brother post pictures of the marathon as he and his family sat watching on part of the course, I saw posts about the bombings. And watched the news with a growing sickening feeling all afternoon long. It was a horror movie on a loop.  

 

 

When women are pregnant, they are often asked 'How can you bring a child into this world, with all of this hate, madness, destruction, war, etc. etc?' It is a legitimate question I think, one that I have posited to myself on occasion. And occasions like today certainly validate the question, and give me pause.

 

 

 I obviously do not regret having my kids, but how do I protect them from things like this? And I have to realize, I don't, and I don't want to. I don't want a hair on their heads to ever be touched, but this crap, this madness - it's a part of this world. They will know it exists, but they will also know that abounding goodness exists, that some people are evil, but most people are amazing. I want them to know that while events like these will make their heart hurt, their heart will hurt from wonderful things also, from having too much love and pride and joy to hold. I want them to learn that while their eyes will see ugliness that they didn't know existed, their eyes will also make them gasp at a dazzlingly white snow covered forest, or an ocean that falls off the end of the earth, or the sky right after a rainstorm, or the first red leaf of fall, or their first look at their children.

 

 

I can bring kids into this world because within three hours after this horrific event, there were over 700 people offering rooms, sofas, futons, food, water, car rides, whatever, to strangers in need. I can bring kids into this world because there will always, always, be more people running towards chaos to help then people running away. I can bring kids into this world because runners ran right through the finish line and on toward the hospital to give blood. I can bring kids into this world because even before little girl was born, there were mamas lining up to feed her, to help people they didn't know. I can bring kids into this world because now I know, after this past year, that there is so much blinding beauty to behold, that there is more love than hate, that there is magic.

Just some thanks.

What a beautiful day today, the sky was just a perfect shade of azure and you couldn't help but be awed by it. Spring seems to be coming. If you've read anything about me so far, you know I pretty much detest the heat, and love love love fall and winter. The coming of spring never really excites me but I must say these days the turning of a new season is cause for joy and appreciation. Catch me again to see if my attitude is still the same when the temperature hits 90 but for now....

We will see if the night ends well in a few minutes when this game is over...aaagggghhh! The whole season has been nail-biting like this.

One and a half weeks left of this picc line I am surely grateful for. I absolutely cannot wait to have this out of my arm. I am also so so very grateful for my wonderful mamas group who provides milk. I was running very low about two weeks ago and I absolutely hate to ask for more when they are already providing so much. Luckily maybe Erin sensed that and that night asked if I needed more now and more in general. So grateful for a fuller freezer. Little girl is too.

Happy New Year!

2012 - Words that worked their way into my personal lexicon this year -

biopsy
infiltrating ductal carcinoma
stage 3
triple negative
axillary lymph node dissection
chemotherapy - AC and taxol
radiation
mastectomy
BRCA
donor milk
my daughter

Words I knew before but had to relearn-
friends
family
neighbors
help
kindness
prayer
visualization
acceptance
accepting
support
relax
breathe


On this last day of the year I throw up a prayer and wish for all of us, that this coming year is full of possibilities, victories, adventures, joys, love, and health. Let's put a close to 2012.

Cancer moms sweeping the nation...

I guess it's like when you get a new car, you notice all of the same kind of cars around you. I swear, before I was diagnosed I had not seen a single news story, article, TV segment, anything addressing pregnant women with cancer. In the past few months I have seen quite a few things, segments on the Today show, news articles, medical studies about chemo while pregnant, etc etc. Bonnie contacted me through Jill @ BabyRabies and Best4Babes about writing an article and here it is! Bonnie writes a lot about milk sharing, pregnancy issues, etc, and I had a great time talking with her.


http://healthland.time.com/2012/11/02/breast-milk-donors-coming-to-the-rescue-of-new-moms-with-breast-cancer/

In sickness and in health.....

Today is my husband and my 10 year wedding anniversary. Not quite the way we thought we would spend it, his bald recently-pregnant and cut-open wife recouperating at home after delivering our new daughter a month early due to a life-threatening illness. That's why said wife sits here patting  a three-day olds back for some burps of milk that didn't come from her, but from some other generous mamas. That's why said husband prepares to have his wife cut open again in less than 4 weeks, body parts and nasty tumors to be removed from a 37 year old.  But, what are you going to do? No one ever thinks they will be in certain positions but we are, and that's okay. We will get through it, so that on our 20th anniversary we can properly celebrate.

Lovely day...

The weather is beautiful! It's finally like fall...even though it's supposed to be back up to 80 something next week :P I will enjoy today. I went to my c-section pre-op appt today which consisted all of checking my heart and lungs to make sure I was alive before surgery. Twenty dollar co-pay for that (will be doing a post soon about my cost of cancer). Then I ran over to the bookstore - ummm, well, waddled slowly to the bookstore - to see if they had anything interesting and fall-y that I could take to the hospital, and then ran over to get a sandwich at Boudin's that I had a coupon for. When I handed the cashier my card to pay a gentleman ran up behind me and said I want to pay for whatever she's getting, and turned to me and said good luck with whatever it is you're fighting right now, and I about started crying. He is - which I told him - the first person in public to ever say something to me during this whole process so far. I get that people don't know what to say, and are uncomfortable - believe me, I get it. I'm super shy and would likely, before this, never say anything to anyone. But I read about all of these people who have people come up to them at the grocery store or wherever and wish them good luck, or say keep fighting or I'll pray for you or anything, just some sort of acknowledgment - and I've not heard one word from anyone. Believe me, I don't go running around town - there's the running again, I don't run anywhere - in a bandana, hoping or waiting for someone to "validate" my fight or anything like that - no one owes me anything and everyone has a struggle going on, some visible, some not so much. But I do have to say, it absolutely made my day, and I will promise to pay it forward someday, knowing how much it means. Thank you kind man out there.

And, the kind mamas who are helping me out are dropping off the first batch of milk today in prep for baby girl's arrival! A big thank you to them as well... it was a good day.