I was going through the notes on my phone earlier today. Cleaning up the ones that were old and I didn't need anymore. Then there was this one I decided to still keep from the end of November when I read a blog I found on Facebook. I don't remember the name of it, but the blog post I read really hit me that I ended up taking a few notes. The notes I took were things I was feeling at the time and to have somebody else feel them and write them made me feel like I wasn't alone. It felt good to know I wasn't the only one. Especially with being a new mom. Very new at that point.
In that blog post, the notes I took, there were 4 main things that resinated with me. The first one...
1. Not only do you have to come to terms with your diagnosis-a mom with cancer-you have to help your family and friends come to terms with it as well. You have to smile and reassure, even when you feel like you're breaking apart.
You see, there were a few people in my life that I felt like this about. I had to be the one to be strong and help them. I had to show them that everything was ok. That I was doing well. Even though deep down I was hurting. Not just physically, but mentally. I would have those nights that I would cry myself to sleep holding Brandon after Eric went to bed. And, when he went back to work? I would sit there one minute staring at Brandon and all his innocence and how happy I was to have him in my life, and the next minute I would break down crying because all the "what if's" came into my head. "What if this thing decides to be so aggressive that chemo doesn't work and it takes me in a few months? What if I do really well on chemo and I get my transplant and then a year or 3 down the road it comes back more aggressive and nothing helps?" Those "what if's" scare me. I don't want Brandon to grow up without me. I know he's in great hands with Eric as his father and his grandma's, grandpa's, aunts, uncles, and cousins, but he wouldn't have me. And that not only scares me, but mades me really sad. So, yes, I felt from day one, after the initial shock, sadness and tears, like I had to be strong for everybody else. Not just myself.
2. You want to tell your husband all of your fears and the things that keep you awake at night, but somehow, if feels selfish. You know that's silly, but you just can't look in his eyes and see the pain there and release your own.
When I was diagnosed, it was hard for both of us. When I got the call from the nephrologist and I did like anybody would do, the stupid thing to do, and Googled the phrase she used "your bone marrow is producing abnormal protein" my heart immediately sunk and I called Eric. I knew I would only be able to leave a message because he too was at work. I also sent him a text, just in case he didn't listen to his voicemail. When I Googled that phrase the first thing to come up was Multiple Myeloma. Then Myeloma. I read a little about it and had to stop because I was at work and I was getting choked up and had tears in my eyes. When I got home that night, Eric was the one who appeared on the outside to be strong. He was relaxed and said "we don't know and it can be a false positive". The next few days I tried my best to keep it together and not worry too much, but better said than done, right? I didn't even tell my parents at that point either. I didn't want them to worry before we knew exactly what was going on. After we met with Dr. H both Eric and I did our grieving differently. We are both emotional, but Eric doesn't always cry or have tears. He does get depressed, like I do, but I couldn't help but ball my eyes out. Then, after about a week, I stopped. It was like I didn't have anymore tears at that time. I got to the point where I was just trying to be strong for both of us. He would say "why couldn't it be me that had this?" "I want to take this pain away from you and have it for me" and other things like that. I knew he was hurting and upset, like I was, but I felt like I couldn't talk to him about how I was feeling because I knew he was already hurting enough. Since then, Eric and I will have talks while sitting in our chairs having coffee or sitting in bed holding watching Brandon play or crawl around between us or while driving in the car on the way to appointments or whatever may be. I have learned how to work around this one. Even if it is hard still, I make sure to let Eric know what's going on. That's one way this blog came about. To get it all out there.
3. It's a balancing act of trying to stay strong for yourself and family while trying not to fold under the pressure and panic that slowly sets in. The treatments are grueling, making you physically and sometime mentally ill.
It's true. Most days after treatment I put on the strong woman act. I may have an excruciating headache or feel really nauseous, but I always think that it could be so much worse. And, I don't want to burden others and have them come help me. I know, I know. They (you) all want to help. But when you have always been the strong one and been the one to help others, it's tough to ask for help. I have only asked for help from somebody other than Eric maybe a handful of times. Once, my friend Colleen came over. I know she said I could nap, relax and she would take care of Brandon, but I honestly couldn't nap because I wanted to visit with her. Another time was Christmas. It wasn't so much of asking for help as much as needing to go nap and be away from everybody else because I was feeling really nauseous that day. Luckily, my brother in law Jeff and sister in law Christina knew exactly what I was going through/feeling because a while back Jeff had been going through chemo for a cancer he had. He's healthy now. But there are days when I am mentally not doing ok. Nothing that would make me harm myself. I am far from that. But mentally I feel like I can not be strong. And those days I don't talk to many people. I just hang out here at home with Brandon and the pups and keep to myself. I am slowly learning how to ask for help, but it isn't always easy. I am more likely to accept it and admit I need help when somebody tells me they are coming over to help me rather than asking me if I want them to help me.
4. You privately rail at the injustice of feeling so weak when you've always felt so strong. You want to be the poster child for endurance, but at some point, you just want it over. You avoid people so you don't have to see or hear the pity when they tell you how sorry they are. You have no idea how to respond to it anyhow other than to shrug it off and say it is what it is. Cancer is terrible any way you look at it.
This one is big! Especially since in just the last two years I had taken back my health and had been working out 5-6 days a week. Even through my pregnancy up until my diagnosis I was working out. I'd do my 25 minute workouts and even did videos of me, pregnant, doing the Cize workout. I had so much energy and felt so good, and then the diagnosis came and I was told not to do those workouts anymore. I have felt so weak since then. And not because of being sick, but because of not being able to do the things I've always been able to do. For a while I would wouldn't want to go anywhere that we would be around people we knew. I mean, I had to go some places. Like work. Even though I was taken off work an put on disability, I still had to go in to take care of paperwork and timesheet and such. I really didn't want to go in because I knew I would get the "I'm so sorry's" and the long tight hugs that would feel so good but would make me cry because I was always the strong one for them. It was tough. It's still tough. But, I get out and show people how I'm doing. How I'm feeling.
Another point I somewhat remember is something about telling your kids. Brandon is still too young to understand. Although his first 6 months of life, and counting, have been spent going to Kaiser Oncology and to the lab and pharmacy. None of it for him, all for his mommy. It's the "normal" way of life for him and all he knows right now. But when the time comes that Eric and I have to sit him down and tell him, I can honestly say, I have no idea what or how we will tell him. I do know we will let him know that if it wasn't for him, we may not have known for a long time. That because of him, we were able to find it sooner. That he helped save mommy's life in the end. It's not going to be an easy conversation. I know I will cry. But it isn't something we will ever keep from him.
I'm sure there were more points I was going to take notes on, but I think I was interrupted by sleepiness, a hungry baby or maybe we needed to get going to an appointment. Either way, the blog I read really hit home for me. I'm sure it did for a lot of other moms. I wish I could remember where it was and the name of it, but it escapes my mind right now and I don't have it on my phone anymore. But, if for some reason, this blog get's out there and that author reads this...Thank You! Thank you for writing that post. Thank you for helping me not feel alone. It's been a rough road, but I am working on so many of the points you wrote about. Thank you!
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