My heart has been really sad lately. I'm missing my mom right now. Maybe it's because I'm worried that when my kids are my age, they will feel the same way about me. Because I won't be there. Yes, that is a negative way to think. But I have to accept that this disease may get the best of me. That maybe, in spite of the great family life I have, maybe there will come a time when I lose whatever fight I have in me. Even when you have a lot to fight for, sometimes the war is too exhausting.
If I were to die today, I don't think I would feel ok about it (who would?). There's something about being sick that makes you live in the now, and makes even the little things, even your kids pooping the in bath tub (gross), grateful for that time you spent with them. When you walk in the kitchen, and you find your daughter giving your dog a makeover with your makeup, the tempation to become angry has disappeared. Instead, I laugh with her. I open my arms wide enough for her to jump into. And as I breathe in her cake batter scented hair (thanks Ryan!), a moment of calm and peace washes over me.
This isn't a cheesy pep-talk. Because I know as quickly as I am happy with my daughter, I also short-fuse out on her when I'm feeling sick, or tired, or just annoyed about everything. And it is still my job as her mother to discipline her when she does wrong. To teach her how to treat other people. The same with my son, although that is a much different kind of teaching ( we have begun the hitting phase). My job is still to raise them, but my job is also still to enjoy them. To love them. To appreciate them for the gifts they are, the gifts I don't deserve.
I want them to remember me by the way I loved them. I want them to look back in their life, whether I live to be 30, 40, or 100, and have their best memories of me be the ones where they know what it's like to be loved and appreciated.
"As sure as stars light the midnight sky,
As sure as children wonder why,
As sure as newborn babies cry,
I was born to give my love to you"
*song by Martina McBride- I do not own the lyrics. *
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Monday, June 17, 2013
Quick Post
Nothing glamorous and elegant to post today. Sicker than a dog.
Just wanted to thank my amazing husband in honor of Fathers Day. He is a great man who fights his country's battle and fights my battles- including my biggest one yet.
Ryan you really are the best husband ever. And the best Father. Thanks for making me your wife. I know you just left yesterday but this week needs to fly by so my rock and strength can come home soon. Missing and loving you to the moon and back.
Love
Your wifelette
Just wanted to thank my amazing husband in honor of Fathers Day. He is a great man who fights his country's battle and fights my battles- including my biggest one yet.
Ryan you really are the best husband ever. And the best Father. Thanks for making me your wife. I know you just left yesterday but this week needs to fly by so my rock and strength can come home soon. Missing and loving you to the moon and back.
Love
Your wifelette
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
I guess it's gonna have to hurt, I guess I'm gonna have to cry.
It's week two in this hell they call chemotherapy. I noticed today my hair is becoming very thin and when I brush my hair in the mornings, my brush is much more full of hair than normal. Guess it won't be long until I won't have any hair to brush. I could look at the brightside, which is that it'll take me about 20 minutes to get ready now instead of an hour. But I would gladly have that extra 40 minutes back if it meant I could feel like a woman.
It's not just the hair. While I still have one ovary left, I still feel like a part of my womanhood left with it. Silly thoughts run through my head. Silly, to someone who hasn't ever felt this, but very real to me. Thoughts of being unatractive. Feeling like somehow I give off this scent of only having one ovary. And if some how all of this hell I am going through with the chemo therapy doesn't work and my other ovary becomes a cancer "site".... then I will feel like their goes everything.
I miss my son. I miss my baby I lost last year. I keep hoping they will come visit me in a dream soon, and I am hoping they have found eachother and are playing together somewhere up above the clouds, living a life free of pain and suffering. My thoughts drift to them all the time. Especially my son, Branden. If things hadn't gone they way they had, I would be nagging my husband about getting our house built so Branden could have a nursery.
But do you want to know what I really hate? People who refer to my son as a "miscarriage". I HATE that term. It implies that I somehow mishandled my baby. I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG- is what I want to scream when I hear that word. IT'S NOT MY FAULT! But who am I trying to convince? Myself? Probably.
I have always wanted 4 children. I'm not ready for that dream to die. I love being a mom. Being a mom is the only thing I feel like I want to do for the rest of my life. It's not that I'm not grateful for Brynnlynn and Brydon, because everyday I look at their sweet little faces, and hold their hands that need my comfort, and I could not be more blessed to be their mommy.
I feel gross. I feel sick. I feel ugly.
I feel sad. Really sad.
D.
It's not just the hair. While I still have one ovary left, I still feel like a part of my womanhood left with it. Silly thoughts run through my head. Silly, to someone who hasn't ever felt this, but very real to me. Thoughts of being unatractive. Feeling like somehow I give off this scent of only having one ovary. And if some how all of this hell I am going through with the chemo therapy doesn't work and my other ovary becomes a cancer "site".... then I will feel like their goes everything.
I miss my son. I miss my baby I lost last year. I keep hoping they will come visit me in a dream soon, and I am hoping they have found eachother and are playing together somewhere up above the clouds, living a life free of pain and suffering. My thoughts drift to them all the time. Especially my son, Branden. If things hadn't gone they way they had, I would be nagging my husband about getting our house built so Branden could have a nursery.
But do you want to know what I really hate? People who refer to my son as a "miscarriage". I HATE that term. It implies that I somehow mishandled my baby. I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG- is what I want to scream when I hear that word. IT'S NOT MY FAULT! But who am I trying to convince? Myself? Probably.
I have always wanted 4 children. I'm not ready for that dream to die. I love being a mom. Being a mom is the only thing I feel like I want to do for the rest of my life. It's not that I'm not grateful for Brynnlynn and Brydon, because everyday I look at their sweet little faces, and hold their hands that need my comfort, and I could not be more blessed to be their mommy.
I feel gross. I feel sick. I feel ugly.
I feel sad. Really sad.
D.