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.

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.

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.

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.