So, wow, it's been months since I've been here.  Many things have past, many things I've probably forgotten, many things I wish I could probably forget.  Regardless, I'm here now and we might as well continue on...

Before I start anything, I want you to know that I do not forget, nor can I, that my three year anniversary as a cancer survivor is approaching next week.  Three years.  The significance is enormous.  The memories are still sometimes surreal.  By this calendar date, I had already drained my lungs at least once, if not twice.  I was on my way to dying and I didn't even know it. 

Fast forward to three years later...three years I wasn't sure I would have.  I'm within days, if not hours, of giving birth to my third child.  Who would've thought that would happen three years ago?!  I have been blessed with the opportunity to watch my two boys grow and become great little guys.  To have family who has supported me, loved me and encouraged me to continue to good health.  It's pretty overwhelming when i think about it, as can be seen by the tears streaming down my face.  I don't know if I'll ever get past each anniversary without crying and I certainly don't promise it. 

This anniversary is bittersweet though.  Although I am celebrating my survival, I am missing a little guy.  He won his battle through his heavenly body last month.  He was only a couple months old when I got sick.  A little less than a year before my first anniversary, he was diagnosed.  For the past couple of years, we were survivors.  I know he fought harder than I did.  I know that he was much stronger than I ever was.  He was a warrior in all ways.  I am grateful that God called him home, so that his suffering could end...but it's hard, especially for my friends who miss their son and wonder what the heck happened these past years that caused all this...

I haven't had a scan since before I got pregnant.  I'm supposed to call them after I give birth.  I don't know when I'll do that, that I would want to do that, although I know I probably should.  The coughing spells I've had scare me at times.  Always a question about it's origin.  But I try to ignore it, move on, and hope that nothing is wrong.  Dwelling doesn't help me.  Too many tears occur, too much fear and anxiety.  What good does that do really?  Stress is something that didn't help me then, so I don't think it'll help me now. 

But I won't lie, sometimes it sneaks in and I wonder what would I do if I went back, got a scan, and they said there was something there?  This pregnancy has caused me more anxiety than the other two.  It's the one AC, for goodness sake!  But I think people don't recognize that, or acknowledge that.  The added physical issues I've had with this pregnancy just isn't about age, it's about the after-effects of chemo on my body but no one will ever think that.  How could they know?  How would they know that the thoughts of my six-month-old at the time was weaned immediately because I had to undergo surgeries and chemo and that I fear, at times, the aftermath - the postpartum period, of this new little one.  Yes, lots of fears.  Am I lacking in faith?  I don't think so.  I think that I'm allowed this, I am, after all, only human.  I've done nothing superhuman by any means.