Being Honest

Sometimes coming up with a blog post is extremely difficult.  Sometimes that's because I'm too busy and too tired (or simply too distracted) to write.  Other times, though, it's because I'm not quite sure how to say what I want to say.  The truth is, sometimes what I really want to talk about is just too deep.  There's too much emotion behind it.

For instance, in this post, I could write pages about many different things.  I could talk about the fear I still feel when I think about Mom's diagnosis.  Or I could tell you how difficult it is having my mom live with me.  How viewing it as difficult makes me feel guilty and how that guilt is driven by my fear.  I could tell you about the things Mom and I have learned about each other and how that has affected our relationship.  Or I could tell you about my relationship with Anna.  I could tell you how weird it is to be simultaneously confident in my mothering skills and yet terrified that everything I'm doing is not enough.  I could tell you how I'm scared that all the happenings around our house will leave Anna stressed and she will become an overly-serious, nervous child.

I could tell you all these things.  I could delve into them and explain each thing in detail.  However, I won't.  These things are just too much.  They're too hard to explain.  They're too difficult to express properly.  And so, I stick to updates and odd tidbits.  They're easier to talk about and far easier to explain.  Do I sometimes wish that I could use this blog as my own personal diary?  Yes.  But that would mean hurting some of the people who are closest to me when I decide to vent.  It would mean isolating some people who don't necessarily deserve to be isolated simply because I'm angry.  And it would mean exposing parts of myself that I'm not always comfortable exposing.

So, excuse me when I go long bouts without blogging.  Sometimes I simply need to be able to process my thoughts, and the blog doesn't always help.  I love this little corner of the internet that's all mine, but sometimes it's hard to figure out what to do with it.  For now, I'll sleep, go to work, take care of Anna, take care of Mom, and hopefully come up with good ideas for the blog.  Thank you for thinking of me even when I'm not talking!

Rain

The day my mom's results came back it was pouring rain.  I had even looked out the window that morning and become nervous because I was worried it was a bad omen.  It was going to be a sad day.  Of course, that's silly, because I've always loved a good rainy day.  So, after the good new, I had to think of a different way to look at the rain.  Rain makes the flowers grow.  It smells nice.  And then I found the thought I liked the best.  Rain cleans away the dust and the dirt.  I was going to look at this rainy day, not as a grey and dreary day, but rather a day that will wash away the past.  It's a rain that will allow everything to reset and restart.

It's amazing how much happier I've been in the past couple of days.  I'm not nearly as tired, and I'm far more motivated than I was.  To that extent, and in an effort to restart, I think it's time to organize the house.

As a wonderful birthday present, Mom decided to hire a professional organizer to come to our house.  We had our first meeting today, and I could not be happier with the service.  Kathy, the organizer, spent three hours with me going from room to room.  I told her things I loved and things I hated and things I just didn't know what to do with.  She told me different ideas for better storage and organization.  She came up with ideas to expand our kitchen space and ideas for better use of our laundry room.  Just figuring out those two rooms suddenly seemed to give me tons of ideas for other things I wasn't sure what to do with. 

I'm hoping that by having a more organized house, I can start to organize other aspects of my life.  I'm hoping that by having a great work station, I'll want to work more from home.  If I can have a nice, quiet space I may actually get work done.  And if work is getting done, then maybe I won't feel so overwhelmed.  And if I'm not so overwhelmed, maybe smaller projects will feel less intimidating.  And if I'm getting through smaller projects, maybe I'll have time for more fun things.  And If I'm doing more fun things, maybe I'll be a bit happier.  You can see where this is going.

So, after such a wonderful week, I'm ready for things to keep being wonderful.  I'm continuing to say that the rain was washing the bad away.  It's my fresh start, and I'm excited for it!

The News

Mom had her CT scan yesterday.  This scan was going to tell us how chemo was affecting her cancer.  We wanted to be realistic about things, but we also wanted to stay positive.  So, our hope was simply that chemo had done its job and tumors were shrinking.  In my positive frame of mind, I expected to hear that everything was shrinking and chemo was going well.  In my more negative moments, I'd fear that chemo had had no affect and that tumors were still growing and the cancer had continued to metastasize.  This morning, we went to the doctor to hear the results. 

Meagan, the nurse practitioner entered the room.  She greeted us with a warm smile and said, "So the results from the scan are pretty fantastic."
"Fantastic on the scale of fantasticness," I said, "or just fantastic as in what we were hoping for?"
"No, they're pretty fantastic," She replied.

"If you remember, in July, you had three masses on your skull.  One large one on your left frontal lobe and two smaller ones in the back.  According to the scans, those are...gone."

My jaw dropped.  I looked at Mom and she looked back and smiled a huge smile.  Then we turned back to Meagan to hear more.

"You had a very large mass in your left lung and it was spreading to your lymph nodes.  In addition, you had many swollen lymph nodes.  According to the scans, that mass is gone and your lymph nodes are a normal size."

Mom and I sat slightly stunned.

"Your back had various spots and some compression fractures.  We did notice two new compression fractures, but that's probably because your spine was weakened by the tumors."

"So, what about the tumors?  Have they grown?"

"They're gone."

"Wait!  So, no tumors in her spine?  No dark masses?"

"Nope."

Another stunned moment.

"And then there was your liver.  In July, you had five masses in your liver."

Mom and I sat breathless, waiting to hear the bad news.  I was hoping Meagan would say there were only 2-3 left, but I was prepared to hear that they'd all grown.

"Of those five masses..."

My heart is racing and my hands are shaking.

"...none..."

None what?!  None have changed?!  None responded?!  What????

"...remain.  The liver is clear and appears to be of normal size and function."

I sat, completely silent and in awe.  I finally said, "I'm sorry.  I don't know what to say.  I'm in utter shock."

Then Mom asked the million dollar question, "So, is this considered remission?"

No, that can't possibly be.  It's only been three months.  That's more than I'd ever hoped for.  I waited for Meagan to respond.

"Yes. At this point, we would consider your cancer to be in complete remission.  Now, we just have to make sure it stays that way."

For the first time all morning, I could finally breathe.  Mom's doctor came in and we discussed plans for the future.  She'll continue with chemo so she has a full 6 rounds, and then we'll discuss prophylactic radiation.  She'll have scans every 3 months for I don't know how long, and we'll want to keep a close eye on things to make sure it doesn't come back.  Still, though, I can't believe how wonderful this news was.  Even the doctor was grinning from ear to ear.

So, this week so far has been amazing.  First, Monday was my birthday.  Woohoo!  Second, and also today, I was officially selected as one of the 40 people under 40 who continue to make a difference in the community (it's a pretty awesome honor, and the publication is very popular).  And lastly, this news.  I can't believe it.  I'm still in shock and disbelief.  This week, LIFE IS GOOD!

Motherhood: The Emotional Rollercoaster

I know a lot of mothers who will get angry at me for saying this.  I also know I'm very new to this game, and I'm probably being a bit cocky.  However, the first 4 months of motherhood really has not been hard.  Yes, Anna and I have had horrible days.  Yes, there was at least one week where I would have traded my arms if it meant I didn't have to carry her around any more.  However, for the most part I have a very easy child.

Anna sleeps through the night.  On average, she'll get 10 hours of sleep each night.  Even on the few nights where she's woken up, she's gone back to sleep easily.  Anna is a fairly stable, steady baby.  She's adorable when she smiles and laughs, and her cries break my heart, but for the most part she's pretty easy going.  She's often happy just sitting with me at my desk or riding around in a carrier on my chest.  Anna is growing stronger each day.  We had a huge moment yesterday where she rolled for the very first time, and she rolled 3 more times today.

In fact, if it weren't for Mom being sick, I'd say caring for Anna is almost easy.  Mom was supposed to care for Anna when I returned to work, so things have taken a bit more planning than anticipated, and I've stayed busy, but I can't really blame that on Anna.

But then there's the other side of things.  There's the side where I feel like my life has been taken away.  There's that side of me that just wants a break, that side that wants to go out for a hike by myself with the dogs.  There's the side of me that hates having to worry about a crying baby or pumping or planning around naps.

After much discussion, Hans and I decided to hire a mother's helper (like a nanny).  I am excited for the help.  I am excited to have a moment to myself.  I am...terrified.  What if Anna hates her?  Can I really trust her?  She has great references, but is she really good?  What if she hates us?  What if she's bored?  What if the whole thing ends up being more stressful?

So, as you can see, it's a bit of an up and down.  I love seeing all these moments of Anna's growth, but I'm exhausted.  Anna's not the most exhausting thing in my life, but I can't help but want a break from her.  I'm so grateful that Hans is so helpful when he's home, but I also can't help to occasionally get frustrated when he's not home or when he wants a break too.

Does anyone else feel this way?  So far, I feel like I only hear the extremes.  In fact, I tend to only hear from the mothers who aren't sleeping, whose babies are colicky or just fussy in general.  So, what about all the other mothers?  How are you feeling?

Confidence

Lately, I've spent a lot of time thinking about things in my life.  Things I have done.  Things I haven't done.  And I've been thinking a lot about how confidence has affected those things. 

All my life, I have thought of myself as having very little confidence.  I've never known what to do or say in a party situation.  I've hated doing things on my own.  I always thought that I was lacking in some way, shape, or form.  I'd tell myself things like, "I'm not pretty enough to talk to them. They're not into the same things I am.  I'm not good enough to do that."  There's been a lot of "I can't" happening.  One of the things I keep reflecting on is how I didn't do a study abroad.  I can tell myself a lot of excuses, but really I was just too scared.  I was too scared to go without Hans.  I was too frightened that I wouldn't have any friends.  I simply couldn't imagine doing something on my own.

Over the past few years, though, that has changed. 

The first change came when I decided to go to dog training school.  I knew I could do it, because I wasn't actually alone.  I had Cody.  If I felt lonely or scared or out of place, I had Cody.  I was still extremely anti-social (I treasure my alone time), and I often felt like I didn't belong in the group, but I had Cody.  I could snuggle with Cody.  I could play with Cody.  I could take Cody for a walk.  I could practice training with Cody.  Somehow, Cody let me know I was on the right path.  That made starting a business in dog training seem somehow easy.

The next change came when I started running. I couldn't run with a group or at a time or place where others would see me.  I mean, I might look stupid and others might laugh.  However, I could take Cody out for some exercise 3 times a week, and I could join an online training plan (where my participation was completely optional), and I could set a low goal.

Somehow, those two things really helped to set things in motion.  Going to dog training school turned into running a successful business, which turned into opening a successful kennel.  Yes, there are times when I get nervous or I'm uncertain, but I know I'm doing OK.

Training for a 5k turned into training for a marathon, which turned into meeting some great running buddies.

And now I'm a mom.  You know, maybe it's because of my experience with the dogs, and maybe it's because I simply have such great support, but I've never been uncertain of my abilities as a mom.  I know my methods and my style and my choices might not be the same as other moms, but that doesn't seem to matter.  Somehow I know I'm OK.

 I'll be honest, I'm not quite sure if this post has a point.  I think I had one when I started, but not so much anymore.  I think I really just want everyone to know that not everything has come easily for me.  When I seem completely relaxed and confident, there's a good chance that my heart is racing and I'm in a mild panic.  Sometimes, many times, I'm just faking.

There is one other thing I noticed, though.  Cody has helped a lot.  Cody has been a bit of a life raft for me.  He has given me the strength and the courage to do things I never would have done on my own.  It's true that I've had tons of support from Hans and my family, but they couldn't always be right there with me.  Cody often was.  For that, I'm forever grateful.

There's probably a lot more I could say about all this.  I could probably type for hours, but it's hard to truly organize my thoughts on this.  It's hard to explain the anxiety I sometimes feel, and it's even harder to explain those few shining moments when I've overcome my anxiety and just done something.  Maybe someday I'll be able to eloquently express those emotions, but for now I can only say I'm grateful that things are a little different than they were a few years ago.  That's all I can ask for.