I'm watching my niece for a few days. Having four kids isn't so bad. It's hectic as I'm always turning around to count heads but not too bad. It's only hard when she turns around and looks for her mama. That breaks my heart because she is sad.
I also have learned that my baby girl loves her mama something mighty fierce. She doesn't like to share me or any of her stuff. LOL. It's heartwarming. It makes me smile. She really does love me!
The other thing I've learned? I love my baby something mighty fierce in return. As much as I know she has to learn to share and play nice, there's that part of me that I have to check because I want to protect her and make everything go her way. I guess it takes these times to really understand how deep the feelings run.
She's growing up fast. I feel like I'm missing out on so much most days. Guess that's just that fierce love saying how deep it lies that I just want to be there with her through all she does. Eighteen months next week...
Friday, March 30, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Memories
Many months have passed me by. I honestly didn't think that it had been as long as it appears, but alas, it has. So many memories have been made...some lost, some still sticking around, some hoping that I will take the time to write it all down. I will try to work forward and backwards all at the same time, to try and catch up for the time that has moved on.
Yesterday was March 19...it is now four years post-chemo. I did not post that to FB. I don't think it's important to share with people anymore. Ultimately, that day only affects me and me alone. I usually take that day off, to be with me and my thoughts. I didn't get a chance to because of course, everything else happens and next thing I know, I'm scooped up in things I have to do for other people. The fact that I even have time right now, to do this much, is amazing.
The day prior, we lost power and so we found ourselves cleaning to pass the time away. Sawnawai found my health planner notebook. I saw it from time to time throughout the morning. When I finally sat down to open it, it seemed like everything else faded in the background. Page by page I turned, looking at prescriptions, calendars, reports. I'm sure many minutes passed before I realized that I had started sniffling and crying as I turned those pages. Soon the sound of the kids playing in the play room came back and I heard Sawnawai ask if I was okay. I closed the book and ran to the bathroom to grab a tissue.
See, my thing is this...despite all the love and care that I am surrounded with by family and friends...the cancer is something that is all mine because it was within me. The scars that I still have, the pains that I have, the scares of things when I start to cough (like I just got over pneumonia) is within me. It is great that people can feel wonderful knowing that I am well. But every year, on various days, my body, my thoughts revert back to years past as it feels and relives the events of that particular day. And no one, unless I make a mention, ever knows. The fact that E was born on the day I ended up in the hospital, is the only reason that people know that day. And you want to make a wager? In a few years, most people won't even remember that. Will I be mad? No, it's not meant for them to remember but sometimes it would be nice for people to realize that the reason I retreat is significant and real.
Four years ago today, I started my last set of Neupagon shots. I started my last bout of post-chemo nausea. I started wondering what life was supposed to be like for me now that my security blanket of chemotherapy drugs gone. So many questions I had. So much uncertainty. So much remorse. People, then, thought that I should've been happy. But so I pretended to be that. All the while, feeling scared and sad.
I have bits of pieces of things from that year. I guess it's time to pack them up in a tote and place it on a shelf. Label it with nothing more than the months that it contains. Time to let go of the fear and sadness. I will be a five year survivor when E turns in October. That's something to be proud of. This time next year, I could potentially be considered CURED. So new memories need to have some room to grow. Yes, I think I will stop and buy myself a tote to pack up all those papers, cards, notes, some scarves and hats (I think I can put the f*&k cancer cap away since A can read). New moments in time want a piece of the action and they deserve it - just like I deserved another chance to at living.
Yesterday was March 19...it is now four years post-chemo. I did not post that to FB. I don't think it's important to share with people anymore. Ultimately, that day only affects me and me alone. I usually take that day off, to be with me and my thoughts. I didn't get a chance to because of course, everything else happens and next thing I know, I'm scooped up in things I have to do for other people. The fact that I even have time right now, to do this much, is amazing.
The day prior, we lost power and so we found ourselves cleaning to pass the time away. Sawnawai found my health planner notebook. I saw it from time to time throughout the morning. When I finally sat down to open it, it seemed like everything else faded in the background. Page by page I turned, looking at prescriptions, calendars, reports. I'm sure many minutes passed before I realized that I had started sniffling and crying as I turned those pages. Soon the sound of the kids playing in the play room came back and I heard Sawnawai ask if I was okay. I closed the book and ran to the bathroom to grab a tissue.
See, my thing is this...despite all the love and care that I am surrounded with by family and friends...the cancer is something that is all mine because it was within me. The scars that I still have, the pains that I have, the scares of things when I start to cough (like I just got over pneumonia) is within me. It is great that people can feel wonderful knowing that I am well. But every year, on various days, my body, my thoughts revert back to years past as it feels and relives the events of that particular day. And no one, unless I make a mention, ever knows. The fact that E was born on the day I ended up in the hospital, is the only reason that people know that day. And you want to make a wager? In a few years, most people won't even remember that. Will I be mad? No, it's not meant for them to remember but sometimes it would be nice for people to realize that the reason I retreat is significant and real.
Four years ago today, I started my last set of Neupagon shots. I started my last bout of post-chemo nausea. I started wondering what life was supposed to be like for me now that my security blanket of chemotherapy drugs gone. So many questions I had. So much uncertainty. So much remorse. People, then, thought that I should've been happy. But so I pretended to be that. All the while, feeling scared and sad.
I have bits of pieces of things from that year. I guess it's time to pack them up in a tote and place it on a shelf. Label it with nothing more than the months that it contains. Time to let go of the fear and sadness. I will be a five year survivor when E turns in October. That's something to be proud of. This time next year, I could potentially be considered CURED. So new memories need to have some room to grow. Yes, I think I will stop and buy myself a tote to pack up all those papers, cards, notes, some scarves and hats (I think I can put the f*&k cancer cap away since A can read). New moments in time want a piece of the action and they deserve it - just like I deserved another chance to at living.
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