Who will be there for Alex if the worst happens

Each day with a terminal illness is a choice. Will I be positive today or will I let the emotions way me down? Will I look at the glass as half full or half empty? Will I choose to smile or choose to cry? To be completely honest, the last few months have been 50-50. I've been very frustrated by all the things I CAN'T do and have let myself focus more on those, instead of what I CAN do.

For example, we had a birthday play date with a great friend of Alex's (and mine) at a local "jumpy" place. Alex LOVES these places because of how hyper he is. However, lately I just can't find the breath to expel that kind of energy. And it bothers him, which then upsets me. The day after the get together, he said that his friend's mom loves her more because she jumped with her. I tried explaining to him that five minutes of me exercising is about equal to him running around for an hour. I get that out of breath. This seemed to appease him. But of course, it stuck with me longer. It pissed me off (scuse my French) that I couldn't play with my own son. That I couldn't be silly with him. That I couldn't build those memories with him.

Then I had to remind myself that at least I was still there. I was at the party with him and our friends. That I got to see him having fun, that I got to take pictures of him/with him. Was it perfect? No. Was it exactly how I would wish? No? Was I sitting on the bench feeling a bit lost because I wanted to be on the inflatables? Yes! But I was there. 3 1/2 years after being diagnosed, I am still here. My health has declined and the disease continues to effect me in more ways each month but at the end of the day, I'm still here. And that is where my focus needs to stay.

But with me reminding myself that I'm still here, the devil's advocate in me asks "what if there comes a day when I'm not?" Now that he's 6 1/2, I know he would remember me. We have a gazillion pictures together so he would have those to look at. We spend a TON of time together, so those memories would stay in his head. I feel like he's already picked up a lot of my personality (good and bad) so I know I would live on within him.

But still I ask myself,  "have I put enough people in his life that would be around after I was gone" (God forbid that happens)? Of course he has a wonderful, amazing, attentive, fun, caring, loving father. He has a great set of grandparents who think the world of him. He has a great aunt, uncle and cousins, and even though they live out of state, I know they completely adore him.

But what about our social network and our friends? As this disease has progressed, I have tried to focus on the people who I could see sticking around. I've always been a VERY social person, but I have changed my mentality from "the more friends the better" to "quality over quantity".

There's my great friend of over 11 years who is more like a sister and therefore an aunt to Alex. It confuses the heck out of him because he wants to know when she and Matt were brother and sister. :-) Even though we are NOT blood, she's seen me at my worst, been there with me when we tried so hard to have Alex and held my hand when I cried more times than I can count.

There's the friends we've made over the last couple years who have also become more like family. They are part of our lives because we all have fun together and can get along when we travel together and our kids enjoy playing together. But also because they raise their children pretty much the same way we raise Alex. And I know, if I weren't around, they would continue to be there to help Matt. I know that they love my son almost as much as I love him.

There are some new friends that we've met through Alex's class who have become an important part of our support system. Even though they are new to our lives, I believe that they already care enough to stick around. And given that they have boys Alex's age, I know that would help give him some stability.

Then there are friends from church who have watched Alex grow up over the last 3 years. They seem to have his GENUINE interest at heart and would help raise him up with God at the forefront - something that is VERY important to me.

But I'm left wondering - have I done enough? Would he feel enough love? Would his life still be complete and fun? Would he have enough friends to play with? Enough people in his life that would watch out for him as he grows? Would Matt have enough help? Would he let these people from our inner circle assist with shaping our son?

And as I get to the end of this blog, I have to believe the answer is yes. I have to believe that our bonds with family and friends are strong enough that Matt and Alex wouldn't be alone. That they wouldn't FEEL alone. That there would still be fun play dates and vacations and camping and baseball and kids playing at our house. I have to believe that our community of faith would continue to help raise Alex in the church.

I have to believe that I've done enough. That the people in our lives would still be here in case I wasn't. And to those people, I say "thank you". Thank you for giving me that sense of peace. Thank you for loving us all enough. Thank you for caring enough. Thank you for just being you.

God bless each and every one of you. Because without everyone here, I know I would let the "glass half empty" days overwhelm me much more than they do. Thank you for your support - not just of me but of my two guys. Even though I'm the one who is sick, I think they actually need you all the most. And I just want to make sure they are ALWAYS taken care of.  Hope everyone has a great day! :-)

Honesty can be the hardest thing

Today's blog is going to be a bit hard for me to write because it's very honest. Even more honest than I normally am. I've been holding a lot of things in, trying so hard to be positive, not wanting people to see how much I'm truly crumbling. I just didn't think it's what people want to read; I mean, who wants to be around a "Debbie Downer"?

I also try soooooo hard to show God's hand in this fight and if I show how some days I'm falling apart, am I letting people down? Am I letting Him down? I write over and over and over about how He has a grander plan, how He can provide miracles, how He can heal me in an instant and how I need to lean on Him to get through this.

Please don't mistake for one moment that I still believe EVERY word of that. It's not like I've just been writing it to sound like the "perfect little Christian." I believe in miracles more than you can possibly know. I believe wholeheartedly that God has the power and that I am His child. I know He cared about me before I was even born.

But the thing is...I'm human. So therefore I'm not perfect, even though I so badly want to be. And because I hate for people to see me on the "rough" days, the ones where I'm falling apart, I tend to seclude myself. I will stay home from church, I won't hang out with friends, I will work from home, etc. I'll continue to let the outside world believe that everything is hunky dory, that I'm just hanging out waiting for my cancer to be taken away.

However, while I'm doing that, I'm falling apart inside. Like really falling apart. More than I care to admit. I'm scared and frustrated and worried and I feel the weight of this three and a half year battle on my shoulders. I feel incredibly alone, although I know I've pretty much done that to myself. People don't see the "scared" me, so how do they know I need help? I pretty much never say it. So, I just hold it all in until I break down; kind of like a volcano.

And who takes the brunt of it? Of course my husband since I don't allow anyone else to see how much this is truly effecting me. Only he knows how much I cry or sit alone on the couch and just worry. Only he knows how much I doubt myself. And today it all came to a head. And I knew that I had to lean on someone other than him. He needed a break and I needed to let someone else in.

So, I texted a dear friend, and she was there. She was there in the best of ways. She listened to me cry and vent and share all the things I've been worrying about. She listened as I told her how much I feel like a terrible mother because I can't insulate Alex from all of this. She listened as I told her how far away I feel from God, and how I wasn't sure how to fix that. She listened as I told her the one thing you're not supposed to ever say when you have Cancer: why do I keep fighting? Is it all worth it? Am I worth it? Is it fair to keep putting everyone through this.

And after listening to all that, she told me the thing I most needed to hear: that she was glad I had reached out to her. That people have just been waiting for me to do that. That it's okay to fall apart like I did, that it wouldn't be normal if I didn't. She also assured me that I haven't damaged Alex for life and that he wouldn't be better off without me. Which I know in my head, but sometimes I need to be reassured.

But the most important thing she told me is that I need to find a way to get closer to God, because He is the ONLY WAY I will make it through this. That I need to get back to having one-on-one time with Him and I need to get back to church. Whether it's my current church or another one (not that I'm saying there's something wrong with mine), I need to be in His house where He can fill me up each week. Because my tank is on empty. I've been looking for all the ways I can fill that tank back up: resting, exercise, eating healthy, vacations, long walks, reading a good book, quality time with the family, etc, etc. But none of it is working. Because ONLY HE can do it.

After that great conversation, I was headed to lunch with another good friend. I had been crying off and on all morning so my face and eyes were a mess. I had no make-up at my office so I soooo badly wanted to cancel. I didn't want her to see me like that. And then I thought back to what my other friend had just finished saying: people want me to let them in, they want to see me at my worst so they can be there for me.

And boy am I glad I went. Because this friend was also there for me in a great way. She told me all the ways I am a great Mom and gave me a different way of looking at things. She also gave me some ideas on how to express my worries before I completely fall apart. But most importantly, she was just there. Not judging me. Just listening. And smiling at me and offering love. And all I had to do was accept it. What a nice, wonderful feeling. And SOOOO needed today.

Today I want to say I'm sorry that I haven't shared more about how hard this has been. For those that know me, they know it is when I'm NOT writing. Because when I'm really stressed/worried/sad, I'm afraid to put it all on paper and depress the people who are reading it. I'm afraid of letting people down. I'm afraid that people won't want to be around me if I'm down in the dumps. So I just do my best to put on my happy face and if I can't do that, stay at home so I don't bring others down.

Today I also want to hold myself accountable for working on my spiritual connection with my Heavenly father. If there is distance between us, it is never going to be His fault. It will always be mine. So it's time to put in the effort. If He had His son die on the cross for me, the least I can do is put Him back in my day.

Thank you for listening and for all your prayers. You have no idea how much they help me on a daily basis. God bless each and every one of you!

The roller coaster

Wow, what a crazy couple of days it has been!! So much to process in so little time. As most of you are aware, I had decided to stop all treatments and leave things in God's hands. I just couldn't face the rollercoaster of emotions. The high when I was hoping something would work and then the low of finding out it didn't. I was insisting to everyone that I wasn't giving up, I was just giving it to God. I was trying desperately to convince myself of that too. But it wasn't entirely true. Let's call it 50-50. I definitely have faith that God can heal, but I also was completely done. Done, done, done. I couldn't gather one more ounce of energy to fight anymore. If I were being completely honest (and I try very hard to be), I sunk into a bit of depression. Well, I'm sure my husband would probably say more than just "a bit".

So, when I found out the other day that there was another possible option, I jumped at it. Maybe too quickly....but it seemed to give me the kick in the you-know-what that I needed. I also took it as a sign from God because I wasn't researching the internet looking for treatments to bug my doctor about. This came to me without me trying. Of course, upon learning about the cost, I got scared and started doubting. Then I saw another friend's Go Fund Me page and thought that might be something to try. I was pretty sure my husband would say no because where I dislike asking for help, he really, really, REALLY hates it. But when he agreed it was worth a try, I moved ahead full force. Got the page created and started spreading the word.

And the reaction (for the most part) was so positive! People started offering to help with fundraisers and giving me ideas how to get out to Texas at no cost and offering places to stay. I was completely overwhelmed by it all. It was almost like people had just been WAITING for me to ask for help. Like finally I had given them some way to help us during this difficult time. Here they were helping ME and they were acting as if I was actually doing something for them. The love of God was shown through so many people yesterday! He was absolutely in charge of this.

But when things are going well, and it's obvious God has control of something, the devil will almost ALWAYS show up and try to wreck things. I saw it in a few comments I received yesterday. Like "it's a huge amount to ask for and it might offend some people". And "I really should have had someone else in charge of the page because it's better for a family member to ask for the money instead of me." And: "what if the treatment doesn't work? Will I feel guilty and want to pay everyone back?" And: "People might start getting sick of hearing so much about your cancer. They might start defriending you because they don't want to see it on their Facebook newsfeed". And that did happen - I had a couple people defriend me. And of course, when I found out, my feelings were a bit hurt. But I had to remind myself this isn't about friendships, it's about saving a life. Yes, that life is mine. And maybe it is more "acceptable" if the life were my son's or someone else, but that's not the case. So, if I annoy some people and they just wish I would go away, I can actually understand that. I'm annoyed with it myself so I can't imagine how everyone else around me feels.

Then I found out that an old rumor had come back around and it got back to me. And it stung. Stung BAD. Hurt me to the point that I just said "forget this. We're not doing this. We'll return everyone's money and we'll find another way." Yes, I have very thin skin. VERY! And I'm too bothered by what others think and believe. It's always been a problem for me. I wish I could say I'll change one day, but even though I'm better than I used to be, I know it won't ever completely go away.

So, last night I was up well past midnight praying about what God wanted me to do. Not what I THOUGHT He wanted from me, but His plan. I was on my knees for about an hour and didn't hear anything. It was just like white noise in my brain. But I was able to feel calmer. I was able to put the hurt and rejection and anger aside. After a bit longer, I decided I wasn't going to hear from God at that time. I finally fell asleep and about 4:30 am I was woken by Alex crying in his bed. He was having a bad dream, so I layed down next to him. He immediately turned his body towards me and wrapped his right arm around my neck. He stopped crying and settled down instantly.

And there was my answer. I'm not asking for this money for me. Because, honestly, if it weren't for being a Mom and wife, I know I would have given up long ago. It's been a very long three years. But when I decided to bring a child into this world, it stopped being about me. I don't have the PRIVILEGE of giving up. That is no longer up to me. So, if I hear people saying that my "story" doesn't add up. Or I learn of someone saying not to donate because who knows where the money is really going. Or I hear of someone getting annoyed by all the people who have shared my page. Or have someone question why my cancer keeps coming back and I'm doing this for attention....well, all I can say to them is: This isn't your life. It's mine. I'm doing the very best I can. I'm trying to fight this disease the only way I know how. It may not be the way you'd do it or even how my own husband would do it. This imperfect girl (very imperfect) is trying her hardest to fight a nasty disease. And that fight hasn't been perfect because I'm not perfect.

So, I come to you today asking a few favors. First, please, please, PLEASE do not feel obligated to donate just because you see my Go Fund Me page come across your newsfeed. Pray about it, think about it. If you feel led, I appreciate the help. I really, really, REALLY appreciate it. But if you don't feel led, that is okay too. It's impossible to help every cause that is circling around these days. I don't want anyone to feel like they have to help in order to be friends with me. I don't count friends by money spent. Never have and never will. Your love and support and prayers are worth far more to me.

Secondly, if you have questions or hear rumors or don't understand something I've said or done, please ask me directly. I will be as honest with you as I possibly can. Things can be cleared up MUCH easier when people communicate to/with each other than talking behind each other's backs.

Third, please know that this was a difficult decision for my husband and I to make. If we weren't feeling at the end of our ropes, we never would have asked for the help. And for two people who hate to ask for help, asking for this much help is SUPER hard. Please know we didn't decide this lightly.

Thank you to EVERYONE who has been supporting us through this journey. Fatigue has set in but I know God will rejuvenate my spirit to keep up the fight.

Blessings!

When it's time to ask for help, just ask...

For those of you unaware, I've been dealing with some tummy issues lately. A week ago I went to the nearby walk in clinic and they said it was diverticulitis. However, after a week of still constant nausea and pain, I decided it was time to see the gastro. I needed to know if we were dealing with more than that since I wasn't really getting better. Going into the visit, I knew they would probably want to do a CT scan and I had already looked up the probable cost. I was dreading that far more than the doctor visit.

Sure enough, the doc ordered the test and I went over to imaging. When I found out the actual cost, I was ready to say "no, just forget it." To say I stress over money would be an understatement. I joked with my husband today that they need to make a pill for that but it would probably cost a fortune. :-) Anyway, I was told my co-pay and I said I wouldn't do it. I called my husband and told him I didn't want to do it because of the cost. His response: "so you're just going to writhe around on the floor in pain the rest of our lives?" Yes, he is definitely the sane one in our relationship. I handed over my credit card and preceded to wait until I was called back.

During my wait, I had time to think about my instant reponse. It wasn't like I thought for a few minutes and said "nah, I don't want to spend that money." It was immediate, a visceral reaction. Like, "no way. Can't do it. End of story. Can I please go home now?" My mind started to think back to something I wrote last week on Facebook. If Alex needed that CT scan, would I have even hesitated? I still would have stressed over the expense but I never would have dreamed of saying no to the test. For Alex, I would have spent the money without hesitation.

As my mind wandered down this path, I recalled some of the comments I received about how I needed to take care of myself just the same way I would take care of Alex. Because if I don't, then I might not be here when he needs me. Thank you, by the way, to all those that helped me see the light. It may not have sunk in a few days ago, but it really sank in today.

And it's a good thing too, because while I was waiting for the scan, I got a call from my oncologist. Coincidence? Not a chance. God had written this story long before today. So, I answered the call as I'm drinking the wonderful medicine for my scan. She preceded to tell me about a medication she had been reading about that might be helpful in halting the growth of my cancer cells. There have been only a few trials, but the results for patients with lung cancer have been very encouraging. She told me she knew I wanted to take a break from treatments, but this was too exciting for her not to bring it up. In my head I'm thinking, "Okay, I just might give it a try. What do I have to lose?"

Until she told me the cost. See, it's not covered by insurance, there is no patient assistance program and the total cost is $15,000 for three treatments. Not only that, the treatment would be at MD Anderson in Houston, Texas. So, I'd have to fly three different times from Birmingham to Houston. Therefore, my answer turned to: "nope, can't do it. Not happening. Thanks for looking into it for me, but there's no way for us to come up with that money." To which the doctor replied: "what would you do if your son had cancer and this was an option to save his life? What would you do?" I told her I would throw my pride out the window and go door to door begging for money if I had to. No matter what, I would find that money. She told me to think about what I just said and give her a call back tomorrow.

And so there I sat, wondering which was going to win out - my pride or the need to try every last possible option to save my life. After much thought, I decided I needed to get rid of that stupid pride and ask for help. Sure, I've sworn for three years that I would never ask for help with the medical bills. I have always found a way to cover them, even though some days I worried about how I would. I prided (there's that word again) myself on finding a way each time I was up against a a drug or surgery or treatment I didn't think I could afford. And if it wasn't financially feasable, I just said no.

But this time, I won't be able to find an extra $15,000. There's no company for me to bully to get it covered. It's a trial so insurance won't pay for a dime. And so I'm stuck. But today being stuck is turning out to be a good thing. Because it made me realize I don't WANT to give up. I think I was there for awhile, but this situation has kicked me back into high gear. I need to try this. Even if it ends up not working, I need to be able to tell my son that his Mommy did EVERYTHING she possibly could to kick cancer's butt.

So, I did the thing I swore I would never do. I created a Go Fund Me page. And I set a goal. And I'm asking for help in coming up with the funds for this treatment. Please, please, please know that I don't expect anything. I understand we are all hit from 8 bazillion different directions with people asking for money. If you are unable to help out, I COMPLETELY understand. I only ask you to donate if you feel led to. Think about it, pray about it. If you are not in a financial situation to help, maybe you could share the page....If you don't feel comfortable doing that, I ask for your prayers. Please pray that God will provide....as He has each time before.

God bless each and every one of you. Thank you!

http://www.gofundme.com/t3hcmw

How much crying is too much?

When I first found out that our latest treatment didn't work, I spent about two weeks in a dark place. I would cry at the drop of a hat, I was incredibly moody (my poor husband) and I just couldn't seem to pull myself out of that depressive state. No matter how much I prayed and tried to rely on my faith, the human emotions just wouldn't be cast aside. Thankfully once the third week began, each day I seemed to handle things a bit better. It was like a lightswitch had been turned on and I could see things clearer. I was reminded that it wasn't the end of the world and God was still in control. I told myself the time for tears was over and time to get back to thinking positively. As a good friend says: "time to put on my big girl panties" and move on.

And then yesterday the tears were back. And I was SOOO mad at myself. Which of course made me cry more. It was a culmination of things, but still didn't warrant all the tears. Or did it? And that's where I'm stuck today. I want to be positive, I want to BELIEVE, I want to carry on with a normal life despite my diagnosis, I want to have fun with my husband, son and friends. But this despair keeps coming back around. And then I get mad at myself. And tell myself to just get over it. But of course that doesn't help.

To be quite honest, at this juncture, I need a champion. And I'm not doing a good job at being that for myself. Not meaning to complain, but my body and mind are just worn out and exhausted. I wake up tired, go through the day tired and go to sleep tired. Every muscle seems to hurt, my brain is foggy (I can't seem to remember how to do the most common tasks) and I'm nauseous all the time so I don't want to eat. I share all of that, not to complain, but to maybe explain where I'm currently at. I logically know that my body is fighting hard to get rid of this cancer, but mentally it frustrates the living daylights out of me. I just want to have a day where I'm not fighting all these physical symptoms on top of everything else. I want a day where it's not a struggle to get up off the couch and play with Alex.

Last night I told Matt: I need someone to tell me it's okay to let go or someone to convince me to keep fighting. Not meaning that in the "I want to die" kind of way. Of course I want to live. But there are times that moving past all this and being out of pain is just very enticing. As you all can guess, Matt said he would definitely not be the person to say it's okay to let go. And I love him for that. But, God bless him, he's not the person to give me the "rah rah" speech I'm looking for. That is not his make up. He is the person who will logically explain why I need to keep fighting. And his logic has brought us far in our years together - can you imagine if both of us were as emotional as I am? God forbid, right? :-)

But that leaves me in a conundrum (big word for this early in the morning). I KNOW I need to keep fighting. I KNOW there is no other option. I KNOW I need to get past this rough patch. I KNOW I need to tell the devil to take away all these negative emotions. But KNOWING it and DOING it are two different things right now. So, today I come to you asking for your help. Can you please pray that God will provide me the cheerleader that I need? That He will clear away this sad time and help me to enjoy each day He has given me? That He will let me know it's okay to be sad from time to time, but show me how to STOP it from consuming me? Please pray that I will accept from people what they are ABLE to give and not be upset when they can't give more? Please pray that I'm reminded that there are certain skills I don't have; therefore other people in my life are the same way.

Thank you to each and every one of you. I'm sorry if I am laying too much at your feet today. I just needed to be honest and ask for the help that many of you have offered.

God bless you and I wish you a wonderful Friday. We made it! :-)

Giving up or giving in to God?

I've been waiting to write and give an update on our next step until I had bounced back from the unfortunate news we received. Only problem is it's been two weeks and I'm not doing the greatest at 'bouncing back'. I swore that I wouldn't make this blog a pity party for me or a place just to vent. So, I've been worried to write and come across as negative or feeling sorry for myself. I've desperately been trying to dig myself out of the black hole but I'm pretty much failing at that....and for that I've been beating myself up.

Just to update anyone that missed the news, the radiation did not do anything to reduce the tumors. They haven't grown in size, but they haven't gone down either. So, there's two ways to look at that: Yeah! They aren't any bigger! or Oh My God, nothing we have done has worked. And try as I might to focus on the first, the second is what keeps running through my mind. Sure, on one hand it's understandable. It's been a LOOOOOOONG three year fight and I'm entitled to be upset. But on the other, me getting so down in the dumps doesn't do anything to solve the problem.

When I heard the news that day, I immediately said "I'm done. I can't do anything else. I'm exhausted emotionally, mentally and physically." What makes it hardest for me is the ONLY thing my doctor suggests is surgery to remove my lung where the cancer has taken up shop. But that is MAJOR surgery with a long recovery time and rehab afterwards to build up the remaining lung. I just don't have it in me. And one thing I've learned in this battle is that attitude is 90% of the fight. So, in my eyes we don't have options because that one is just too far out of reach.

When I was filling in one of my best friends this week, she said: "You've been told before that there are no more options, but you always found something else. How do you really know this time the doctor is right?" I've thought a lot about that question and I believe the answer is "I don't have the energy to keep looking for things we haven't tried". I have changed doctors several times because as soon as one told me we were at the end of the road, I would refuse to hear it and find another doctor who had a different response. Round and round I've gone. I've spent countless hours online myself searching for that one drug or treatment we hadn't tried. If it was a drug trial, I would fight my way in. If I was denied, I would keep trying until they said yes. If it was something my insurance didn't cover, I would use everyone I know to help me to change their minds. I never took no for an answer. I never accepted "there is nothing left to try". Until now.

And today I'm trying to decide if that means I am giving up or simply giving it up to God. I'm so very weary that I have NO choice but to turn it over to Him. What we are doing is simply not working. So, maybe that is God's way of telling me I need to stop. Isn't the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over even though you get the same result? Well, today I've decided to stop the insanity. Maybe I can't beat cancer by being stubborn and tenacious and bullheaded. Maybe I don't have the answers after all and won't be able to find them through Google. Maybe there is no doctor, drug, treatment or trial that will cure me.

But that doesn't mean there is no hope. Because I know what God is capable of. I know that He has the ability to heal me today or tomorrow or the next day. And that is the hope that I'm clinging to. Or to put it more accurately, that is the hope I'm TRYING to cling to. Because I would be lying if I said I wasn't still depressed and sad and worried and scared. And I swore that I would never lie to you guys, no matter how bad it made me look. I will freely admit that my faith has taken a beating. Not that I don't believe, I just don't know what God's ultimate plan is and that is the part that is scary.

So today, I am praying for God to show me the way out of the sadness and towards the light again. I know He can do it. I just need to lean on him 100%. And anyone that would like to pray with me, it would be greatly appreciate it.

Please know how much I DEEPLY appreciate all your messages, texts, emails, calls and prayers. I wouldn't be able to make it through this without you guys. Love to you all!

It isn't a matter of how good you are...

Some of you may know that I have closely followed Kara Tippetts' fight with cancer. She was a 39 year old Christian author, wife and mother of four who battled breast cancer. Around December of last year she found that it had metastasized to many other parts of her body, including her brain. At that time, the doctors decided that the fight was over; there were no treatments left to try. A couple of months ago, she was moved home to spend her last days and put under hospice care. On Sunday, Kara went home to be with Jesus.

I first came across Kara on Facebook because several other friends were following her page. Then I learned about her book 'The Hardest Peace', which documented how she dealt with her disease and how she relied on her faith to get her through. As hard as it was some days to read, that book became almost my manual for how to cope with my own cancer fight. She was my inspiration for how to live in faith, not just to talk about it. When I wanted to give up, her words reminded me that I was not in this alone - God was simply waiting for me to lean on him.

Several weeks ago, I wrote to Kara to tell her how much she had helped me and to let her know I was praying for her. To my surprise, she wrote back and said she would also be praying for me. I couldn't believe, in her state, that she was still thinking of others. But from what I can tell, that is just the type of person she was. And so started our connection. We emailed back and forth a few more times and each time she sent me encouragement, love and words of faith.

As Kara's days were coming to an end, I found myself checking Facebook daily to see if she had a post. Each time that I didn't find one, I worried that she had passed. As much as I was worrying about her, I was also worried about myself. In the back of my mind, I really thought there would be a miracle and God would cure her. I just couldn't imagine Him taking someone so pure of heart, love, joy, wisdom and faith. And if He did, what would that mean for me? I kept thinking: if He doesn't save her, WHY on earth would He save me?

On Sunday I learned she had made the trip to Heaven and I was in shock. I just couldn't believe it. What happened to her miracle? She was MORE than deserving of it, so why didn't she get it? For the first couple hours of the day, I was scared out of my mind. Just a few days before we found out my radiation hadn't worked and I was already worried about my own future. And now Kara was gone.....I just kept replaying the same thing over and over in my head: if not save her, why me? What chance did I really have for my own miracle?

And then God gave me the answer. Because He hadn't saved her, I had hope. Bear with me here.....If God had cured Kara of her cancer because she was such an amazing Christian and so deserving and loving and caring, then I truly had no chance. I could never live up to her standards - not in a million years. However, for some reason, He allowed the cancer to bring her home to Him. I won't begin to guess why - it is His plan, not mine. But, in this situation, it became clear that it is NOT about being "good" enough to be saved. No matter how hard I try to do right, act right, be right or be the best Christian in town or the best friend, wife or mother, I will NEVER be perfect. I will never be "better" than Kara or any other person. We are all deserving of a miracle. I am deserving and so was she. But it's not about that. It's not up to me.

Only God can make the final decision, and that decision DOES NOT hinge on how I act. And that one sentence gave me a large amount of peace. It helped lift the cloud that had been hanging over my head since I learned the scans weren't clear. Do I know what my outcome is going to be? No. Do I know if God is going to grant me another miracle? Nope, sure don't. But I DO KNOW that I can stop trying to be "good enough" to be healed. I can stop carrying around the weight of trying to impress Him. He loves me just the way I am. And even if he doesn't get rid of the disease that has set up camp in my lung, it doesn't mean He loves me any less. He has a plan and I have to respect that. And sit back, take a deep breath and see where it leads.

Keeping control of my emotions and feeling good about it.

I have a dear friend who asked me one day why I tend to write about the things I need to fix instead of the great things about myself. She felt so strongly about it that she wrote a list of the "great things about Vicki" and sent it to me (I blogged about that a few weeks ago). I explained to her that it's much easier for me to make a list of all my faults. Also, isn't it kinda vain to blog about how wonderful I am? I'm not sure who would read that. ;-)

Well, this morning driving into work that friend's voice was in my ear, pointing out something that I'd done right. So, today is going to be a little different. No, I won't be losing all modesty and detailing all the ways that Vicki is awesome, but I am going to take a moment to pat myself on the back. More as a reminder to myself on how to handle similar situations in the future. And maybe, just maybe, there's someone out there who this might help.

Most of you already know that I am an emotional person. A VERY emotional person. This is something I have always known about myself. It isn't something I woke up one day and said, girl, you are REALLY emotional. I've known it most of my life and had it pointed out repeatedly by others. But I used to think: "that's just who I am and I'm always going to be that way." Well, that is true, but up to a point. When I started trying to work on myself and become a better 'me', I decided I needed to change how I looked at that emotional side. Yes, I AM an emotional person and that won't ever change. But I CAN change how I HANDLE those emotions and how I react.

See, I have always been the person that reacts in the moment. I don't have the greatest of filters. If I get upset, that shows on my face immediately. There's no hiding it from anyone. I cry easily and often. I often think back to a Friends episode where Rachel is talking about how much she cries. She said: "I cry when I'm happy, I cry when I'm sad. I cry when I'm mad or upset. I cry when I'm frustrated. I cry when I lose at something and even when I win. I just cry ALL the time." Yes, it was meant for comedy, but that is pretty much true about me. I wear my emotions on my sleeve and the way I show those emotions is often through tears.

Now, I don't really see tears as a bad thing. The truly negative part of how I used to handle my emotions was what I would say in the heat of the moment. I would say whatever came to mind and then want to take it back later. But often that is hard to do. People may forgive what you said, but it's hard for them to forget and most times the relationship is never the same again. Those outbursts have ruined a few good friendships over my 41 years. And even though I would say I was sorry a bazillion times over, who wants to be friends with someone who reacts like that? Some have decided it just wasn't worth the hassle.

So, this is something I've REALLY tried to work on. Like, really, really, REALLY work on. I think it helped a lot when I realized WHERE these emotional outbursts were coming from. The times I would get angry and lash out, it was coming from a place of hurt. When I felt like someone had 'wronged me' or treated me unfairly, I would try to hurt them back. This was subconscious for most of my life, but once I realized what I was doing, I was finally in a place to work on it and change it.

Last week I wrote about an email I received from a friend and how this really hurt me. When I received it, my emotions overtook me. I started crying pretty quickly and just couldn't stop. At the time I just didn't understand WHY it was sent. I couldn't grasp the other person's side of things. I couldn't make sense of the reasoning behind it. When I was removed from the situation for a day, I realized it was more about something I already worried about than what the person wrote. But in that moment, I was pretty devastated.

Luckily I knew (and another person pointed out to me) that this friend has a good heart and would NEVER intentionally hurt me. I also knew that this was a friendship that I didn't want to let go of. So, even though I was extremely emotional and confused, I didn't lash out in anger. I didn't get defensive. Yes, I wrote back and explained how I was feeling and defended myself a bit. But there is a huge difference in defending yourself and being defensive - one that I have only just recently learned. When you defend yourself, you have taken a moment to really think about what the other person is saying. When you get defensive, it's a reaction. It comes from a place of emotion not of thought. It comes from the heart, not the brain.

Yesterday I received a follow up email from that friend and because I hadn't lashed out and made a jerk of myself, we were able to discuss the situation. I was able to see the other side and further explain mine. We were both able to get our thoughts and feelings out. And we were able to move past it...the most important part.

In the past I would have felt JUSTIFIED to have reacted in anger. I would have said that this person had NO RIGHT to say such and such and I had every right to be upset. If we had stopped being friends over it, I would have stated that it was because the other person was wrong. But in the back of my mind I would have always wondered if it was more my fault. And then I would have felt guilty. And ashamed. And embarassed.

But because I took a moment, just a moment, to think and not react, the friendship is still intact and probably closer than before. And today that feels pretty darn good. So, to my friend who asked me to write about something I've done right, this one's for you.

God bless and hope you all have a fantastic day!

I refuse to live by the statistics....

About a year and a half ago, my oncologist called to tell me that I had about six months to live. The latest chemotherapy we had tried did not work and she felt we were out of ideas. We had already tried SO much and she felt like it was time to face reality. At the time, I had several friends tell me how cruel it was that she put it so bluntly. That no doctor should call on the phone and say it as harshly as she did. But I disagreed with them. I knew why she had stated it so matter of factly. Because up until that moment, I refused to believe my cancer diagnosis was a death sentence.

I refused to listen to statistics. I didn't want to hear that a treatment had a certain percentage rate of success. I didn't want to hear how much time I had if such and such medication worked (or didn't work, which was often the case). I kept insisting that God was in control of all this and it didn't matter what the numbers said. I knew this from experience from our infertility journey and I just COULDN'T let the numbers dictate my path.

There was a point in our battle to have our son that the nurse called me with bad news about some blood work. I can remember it clear as day; it's etched into my memory (previously for bad reasons, but now as a reminder of how NOT to react). She was letting me know that my egg quality was very bad and at that point the fertility clinic didn't think there was any chance we'd have our own child. In fact, she alluded to the fact that they were doing me a favor by keeping me on as a patient. My odds were that bad. I lost it, completely fell apart. Sank to the ground and just balled my eyes out. My husband came home from work and that's where he found me - just curled up on the floor with the phone still in my hand. That news from the nurse just about destroyed me. I took it as FACT, not just their opinion based on one number. And I found myself giving up. If they said it wasn't going to happen, well, I guess it wasn't.

As gut wrenching of a memory that is for me, I hold on to it now because I CAN NOT let myself react the same way to my cancer. I'm terrible about looking at the glass half empty instead of half full. If I hear something has only a 50% chance of working, I will hear "that means it has a 50% chance of failing". And when I start worrying, that worry takes away my focus and it takes away some of my 'fight'. And for those that have dealt with a serious disease or illness, you know that your mental state is almost more important than the treatments/medications you take.

But my refusal to hear the statistics of where I was in my cancer battle is what led my doctor to call that day. She felt I needed to know that I only had six months left. She felt it was critical for me to start planning for the inevitable. In her eyes, I needed to get my will done, get my husband all the information on my life insurance, basically get my affairs in order. She felt like I had lived with blinders on for too long and it was time to face the cold, hard truth. Even though I kept telling her that it was God's plan, not hers, she saw that as being in denial. She took my faith as burying my head in the sand. So, she got blunt with me...really blunt.

Instead of believing her and giving up, I contacted my pastor and asked for a prayer/healing service. I posted the news on Facebook and asked everyone to pray. I know I came across as quite hysterical, but I knew it was time to bring in the big guns. Not because the doctor was right but because I knew God and His people could heal me. I'd seen it happen with us being given Alex. And if He could give us a baby, He could certainly clear my body from this disease.

A few months after that prayer/healing service, I found out that I was in remission. Praise God! Unfortunately, as you know, the cancer has returned in a different location. So, does that mean I give up? No. Does that mean I believe God has given up on me? No. Does that mean I need to start worrying about how much time I have left? No. As my pastor loves to quote: "one out of one people die". It's a fact. We all are technically dying from the moment we are born. It's not something we can stop; it's inevitable.

I know some friends and family members believe that I should be preparing Alex just in case the worst does happen. And I absolutely respect your opinion. But it's just not the way I choose to handle this. He does not know his mother has cancer. And until it's ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that the end is upon us, he will not know. I want his childhood as untarnished by this disease as humanly possible. I want him to be thinking about baseball and church and choir and friends and camping and Spring Break and whether or not his hair looks good today. I do not want him worrying about his Mommy. It's my job to worry about him, not the other way around.

So, at this point, do I know what the future holds? Nope. Do I have any idea what my life expectancy is at this point? I have the same knowledge of this as the rest of you reading this blog. I could get killed in a car accident, I could have an allergic reaction to something, I could get hit by a foul ball at the baseball fields, I could fall down a flight of stairs (yes, I'm really clumsy), I could have a heart attack or maybe, just maybe I could pass away from cancer at some unknown time way in the future. I just don't know. And call it denial or call it faith, but I'm completely okay with that. The future holds what it will hold....

Thank you everyone for all your prayers. God bless you and have a fantastic day!

Guilt, cancer and more guilt

Please forgive me today if this blog is a bit all over the place but I have a lot of emotions from yesterday that I would like to explain. Please bear with me.

Guilt....this is something that has been a part of most of my life. For many years, I could feel guilty over ANYTHING. I say "I'm sorry" so much that it drives my husband bonkers. It could be raining and I think it's my fault. This is something that I am very aware of and have tried very hard to work past. Guilt just wears you down and saps the energy right out of you. It doesn't do anyone ANY good. So, why feel it? I know where mine comes from...a place of insecurity and not feeling "good enough".

As many of you know, when I was 23 I was disowned from my family. I was told I was dead to them and would go to hell because I had the devil living inside of me. My father actually used scripture verses as his reasons for why I couldn't be his daughter anymore. Of course that was a very difficult time and it affected me greatly. Not nearly as much today, but it took a long time to get past. Even though I knew they were in the wrong, you can't help but wonder why you weren't good enough for your own parents. How could they not love you enough? Was I really that bad of a person? Those are questions that will keep you up at night.

Fast forward to Matt and I getting married and trying to have a baby. For about three years we suffered from infertility issues and the doctor we were seeing told us that we most likely wouldn't have a child. Feeling total dispair, we went to see our pastor and asked for his advice. Should we keep trying or should we adopt. Much to my surprise, he didn't have advice either way. He told us that the Holy Spirit was speaking to him very clearly. And he was saying that I still had unresolved issues with my parents that I needed to get past first. That I needed to be able to forgive them before I could move on to be a mother. I was pretty irritated sitting in that office. I had gone there for clarity about our current situation, not to relive the past again. But our pastor was not budging. He insisted that I had work to do.

So, because I had nothing to lose (not because I fully believed him AT THAT POINT), I went to our local Christian book store, bought a book and workbook on forgiveness and stayed up for 48 hours straight working on it. By the end of those long two days I actually was at a place where I could tell my parents I forgave them. Finally. Without reservation. I didn't think I'd ever get to tell them since we weren't in contact, but God had other plans. One day, yes ONE DAY, after I finished that workbook, I received an e-mail from my father. We had hardly spoken in years. I wasn't even sure how he had my e-mail address. At that moment, I knew the pastor was right. The Holy Spirit had been in that office that day. What a gift from above. I can still remember how I felt when I saw that e-mail come across my computer screen.

I'd love to say that there was a happy resolution, but that wasn't the case. I expressed my forgiveness to my father and he refused it. He told me he hadn't done anything to be forgiven for; that I was in the wrong. I started to get upset but I realized that wasn't the point. It didn't matter if my father accepted the forgiveness. The point was that I had given it. And given it freely and honestly.

In addition to the wonderful feeling of releasing that anger, I also remember the guilt I felt. If it was my anger towards my parents that was keeping us from having a baby, that was my fault. I was the one keeping my husband from being a father. I was the one that put him through all those doctor visits and miscarriages. I was the one keeping his dream from coming true. We did end up of course having a happy ending - soon after the e-mail converstion with my father, I went to a prayer and healing service. And three weeks after that we found out we were pregnant with Alex. Praise God.

But still I felt guilty. Yes, we had this wonderful gift, but it didn't change how I felt. I thought for many years that if I had gotten my stuff together earlier, I would have saved us the three years of trying. And maybe if we'd had him earlier, we could have gone on to have a second child. Guilt, guilt, guilt.

Living with cancer also means that I live with the same guilt. It's me that is sick and it's me that needs treatments and it's me that is bringing pain and heartache into the house. I often ask what God wants me to learn from this disease. Why hasn't he healed me yet? Is there something, like with the infertility situation, that I am supposed to deal so I can become cancer free? I've read everything I can get my hands on, I pray, I talk to pastors, I try as hard as I can to "work on myself" just in case this is truly my fault.

No one I talk to suggests that it is my fault. It's actually the opposite. People tell me I'm way too hard on myself, that I didn't choose to have cancer, that I can't "fix" myself into not having a disease, that it's God's plan, that's it's out of my hands, etc, etc.

Until yesterday....yesterday someone suggested that I am actually choosing to have cancer. That my thoughts, feelings, and emotions are what are making me sick. I learned that when I was at the Cancer Treatment Center getting ready for my radiation. And I just started bawling- gut-wrenching, body shaking sobs. Crying where you can't catch your breath. Because this person had touched that tiny place I try to ignore where I still think it's my fault. Because what if that person was right? Had I done this? Had I put my family and friends through three years of hell because I'm that screwed up? The tears weren't so much that the person had said this (although it still confuses me) but the "what if"? What if the person was right? What if I was actually this terrible, terrrible person that God had allowed to have cancer as some sort of punishment?

I reached out to two friends and they tried their hardest to convince me that person was wrong. That many, many, MANY Godly people have had or still have cancer. That I hadn't done this to myself or my family. That I didn't choose this. That I had been doing everything in my power to get past it. And that they admired how much faith I had in God that he would heal me. And as much as I believed these two dear friends, I still cried off and on throughout the day and woke up crying this morning. I'm embarassed to put all that in writing because I hate for people to know I'm such a cry baby (but I don't think it's that much of a secret).

This morning when I woke up still upset about what the person had said, I realized I needed to stop focusing on what was in that e-mail. I needed to focus on my reaction to it. Yes, the tears were probably a combination of a lot of things. Yesterday was the last treatment in this round and there is fear about it not working. The tears were also a culmination of all the stress of these past years, fighting a war that never stops. But I have to be honest that those tears were also about my guilt. Guilt that I still haven't gotten rid of. Even though my friend was wrong - I didn't choose cancer and I can't make it go away on my own - the person hit a nerve where I am still questioning myself. And that's what I have to get rid of. That little (well, probably not that little) nagging fear that I'm somehow to blame, that I'm not a good enough Christian for God to heal and if I were just "good enough" my cancer would be healed. Maybe I need to go find a book and workbook on guilt and stay up for 48 hours straight. ;-)

So, what to do now? Well, for starters, I need to find something to conceal these puffy eyes. Thank goodness I'm working from home. But more imporantly I need to find a way to get rid of this guilt once and for all. And tell myself I am already "good enough", that God loves me exactly as I am, that my cancer isn't a punishment, that I didn't cause this (let alone choose it) and find a way to TRULY believe those things. That will be the hard part. But today I'm up for the task.

Thanks for listening. And thanks to my two sweet friends who helped me get through a rough day yesterday. I love you both to the moon and back again. :-)

Making decisions as a parent when you and your spouse disagree

Last fall our son, Alex, started playing baseball. We signed him up in our local league for his age bracket. However, he had never played before and by the first practice I learned we were in way over our heads. Not only is he much smaller than boys his age (he's six and I often get asked if he's four or give)  but the other parents were WAAAAAAY more competitive than my husband and I are. We went to the league to see about pulling him out and they recommended dropping him down one level. That turned out to be the best decision! Not only did we find a great coach and some other kids he knew but I also made some great friends.

When it came time to sign up for Spring season (which is far more competitive than fall), I wanted to keep him with the same coach. However, I was told by the league that he'd have to move up to his actual age group since the rosters for Spring have to be "approved". I went back and forth and they agreed to let him play down one level this last time. Then came evaluations. I guess Alex played well enough that they kind of pushed me into letting him go up to 6U. My gut was telling me no, but my husband's and my gut were not on the same page.

See, up until a few months ago, my husband worked 80+ hours a week so most of the childcare fell on my shoulders. That included most of the decision making and it was something I'd gotten used to. But when my husband sold his business and was home a lot more, I knew that I needed to step back some and let him have equal say. I knew that it was important for Alex and also important for our marriage. I'll admit it was a bit tough to let go of the reigns, but I have definitely made a conscious effort. We don't always agree but we have found a happy medium (at least I think). When I feel very strongly about something, he tends to give in and vice versa.

Until this baseball situation. I thought we were on the same page until it came time for registration. I thought it was best for Alex to hold him back - he was getting good at the game and it seemed beneficial for his attention, self esteem and focus. I was worried if he moved up too soon that he'd get overwhelmed and discouraged. My husband (I'm paraphrasing on his behalf) felt like I was coddling Alex and we'd have to let him play with his own age group eventually so why not start now. I really, really, really, REALLY disagreed but I could see that he also felt just as determined. So I prayed and prayed and felt like God was telling me to let go of this one. Matt is the head of our household and as his wife it is up to me to support him. So, support him I did. And Alex moved up to 6U.

I've tried to be positive about it in front of Alex, but I STILL feel like it was the wrong decision. I miss the other coach and how he seemed to really care about Alex. Alex doesn't seem to be playing as well and honestly seems way out of his league. Last night at practice, I will admit that I had a bad attitude. It was raining, it was late in the evening and I didn't want to be there. It was all I could do NOT to let Alex see that. Luckily he didn't pick up on it and played like a trooper. Well, he played hard and didn't give up, but he didn't play well. They had to bring the tee out for him to hit off of - something he didn't need in the fall. I could see the discouragement on his face but he made me proud by never giving up.

We came home wet from the rain and I'm ashamed to admit that I brought my negative attitude back home with me. Sitting there at the field, I was sure I was right. We'd made the wrong decision and it was going to be a terrible season. No one was going to convince me otherwise. When I woke up this morning, with the same thoughts, I knew I had to do something. So, instead of continuing to stew in my "I am right and everyone else is wrong" attitude, I decided to e-mail the coach. Not to tell him we'd made a mistake, but to ask his honest opinion. He has a son on the team and I decided to ask him to be honest with me. If Alex were his son, would he want to have him play down a level or keep him where he's at.

Unfortunately I ended up even more confused. The coach said Alex has a great attitude (yeah for that) and he doesn't seem discouraged in his eyes. But on one hand he thought it would be better for Alex to be with kids his own size. But on the other hand, it was good for Alex to be with kids his own age. No matter how hard I pushed, I couldn't get him to recommend one way over the other.

Is any of this the end of the world? No, of course not. But with Alex's hyperness and tendency to be silly and goofy, I was excited that we had found a sport that seemed to fit him well. Now that the new season has started, I feel like we have lost that and it's just going to be another sport he won't stick with. As an only child, I think it's VERY important that he play team sports. I believe he can learn a lot from playing with the other children and not having everything his own way.

So, what to do, what to do? Today I'm asking for your opinions. Am I making too much out of this? Should I just let it go and get through the season? Should I try again to convince my hubby that I'm right or does that go against my role as a Christian wife? One thing's for sure, I definitely need to do some more praying. Hopefully today God will give me some good direction so I can't stop dwelling on this.

Thanks everyone for listening and for your advice. Love to all!

Teaching a six year old about race

A couple days ago my husband was playing Trivia Crack (which is very similar to crack by the way) with our son sitting next to him. This was the question that came on his screen: "which year was the first black president elected." Alex asked "what does it mean 'black president'?" Matt and I looked at each other and I felt like time stopped. A million things ran through my head in the next ten seconds, but the first thought was "I hate that this day ever had to come."

Until that day, we had managed to raise Alex pretty much color blind. He never called his African-American friends or classmates "black". If he had to describe him or her, it was by the clothes they wore or how funny they were or how nice they were to him. In fact the ONLY person he had ever described as a different color was Matt because he worked outside and was much more tan than Alex and me. This was something we were very proud of. We were glad that Alex had grown up with kids of different races in day care, preschool and now Kindergarten. We didn't want him to see people by the color of their skin; we wanted him to see all people as equal. And I felt like we had done a very good job of that until this week.

But with that question on a small screen in my husband's hands, I felt like that was all changing. How could I explain to him that color didn't matter when that question was phrased as if that was the only thing that did? How could I tell him not to describe someone as black, white, red, asian, hispanic, spanish, etc when that trivia game was putting so much emphasis on color?

We tried our hardest to explain to him that our current president is of a different race than we are and how that doesn't make him any better or worse than us. Just different. We tried to get him to see that people in this country may come from all different places but that we are all Americans. We tried getting him to understand that in our home people are all created equal.

Do I think he got it? No, I know for a fact he didn't because he told us it didn't make any sense and we were just confusing him. And I wished so badly that I could turn back time and have a different question pop up on the phone. I wanted to go back to when my baby didn't see black or white, he just saw individuals. Some of you may be thinking that I am incredibly naive to think we will ever have a world where color of skin is not a factor. And maybe I am naive. And some of you maybe thinking that I have no right to comment since I am white and can't imagine what it is to grow up African-American. And maybe that is true as well. I don't know how it would be to have a different color skin. I can't change the fact that I am white, but I also don't want that to be how people see me. I want them to see me as a Christian, a mother, a wife, a friend, caring, considerate, helpful and loving. Being white is just a tiny, tiny, TINY part of who I am. And if I don't want to be identified strictly by my skin color, I don't want to identify others that way.

I know the other day was inevitable. Alex would surely have overheard someone saying "that black man" or "that black boy" or something similar. Maybe I am lucky that we made it until he was six before him learning that others put such a focus on color. But when the subject comes up next, as I know it will, I plan on telling him that even though the rest of the world places so much importance on color, our home does not. Will this change society? No. Can one person, one family get rid of any leftover racism in our community? No. But for me it's a start. All I have control over is myself and my son (at this point). All I can do is keep working on us. I know that God doesn't see black or white when he looks down from Heaven, He just sees all the people He created. He sees each one of us as completely equal. And I want to do my very best to see us the same way.

God bless you all. Hope you have a wonderful day. Every one stay warm!

Fake snow day, cancer and procrastination

So, for those that haven't been watching the weather in Alabama, the whole state basically shut down due to the threat of snow and ice. Which worked in my favor for ways that you wouldn't have guessed. It helped me procrastinate something I'm not looking forward to at all. I'd managed to avoid it for a few weeks and thought I'd have to do it today but luckily this weather came around. I'm talking about my next radiation treatment.

See, I went a few weeks ago for the first of three treatments and it was much harder than I thought it would be. I ended up with a collapsed lung and was physically, mentally and emotionally drained for well over a week. Due to the complications, I had to skip the next week due to doctor's orders. Then the next week I decided I just couldn't handle it so I put if off. Then the next week came and I told my husband that some other things had to be settled before I could face another treatment. I just didn't think I could handle another rough week while we had some big decisions up in the air.

But I knew I couldn't keep putting it off. This was treatment that I had fought so hard to have. Treatment that I praised God for getting approved. Treatment that I made a HUGE deal over being the last possibility. And now I'm putting it off like a dental appointment. I have all the above excuses for it and they are partly true, but not the whole story.

As I sat here today watching the weather turn into no big deal, I started wondering what was going on in my brain. Family and friends have been asking me when I'm going to get back on track. When I stop long enough to think about it, I feel like I'm letting them all down. I mean, I made such a big deal about "never giving up" and hear I am just sitting on my butt doing nothing. Just letting time pass on by, week after week. As if this is just a tooth cleaning that can be put off without dire results.

The truth of the matter is I'm scared. I'm scared because I've been told there really aren't any options after this. I'm scared because what if it doesn't work? What if we do the other two weeks and the cancer is still there? What then? At least now I have these last two treatments to "look forward to", in a sense. My worrying is kept at bay by not doing anything because I still have this last option to check off my list.

I know I can't put it off forever. I know by doing nothing I'm not taking control. Instead I'm letting the disease run my life. I'm letting worry and fear run my life. And by doing that, I'm telling God that I'm not trusting Him with my health. Even though the doctors are telling me this is the last treatment option, they are not the ones with the ultimate say. God is. Even though the doctors act like this is a "Hail Mary" of sorts, they are not the ones who get to decide my fate. God is.

And the only way to trust Him completely is by making the appointment and leaving it in His hands. So, for everyone who has been asking and to those too afraid to ask, a week from today I'll be on my way back to Atlanta. I'll be back to fighting this disease instead of it fighting me. Thank you for being patient with me and understanding my trepidation. Thank you for always being in my corner and allowing me the space to procrastinate. But thank you for also letting me know the procrastination has to end. All it took was a fake snow day to get me back on track.

Hope everyone is staying warm out there. Love to you all.

An RV for Valentine's Day

My husband bought me an RV for Valentine's Day and it was the sweetest gift he could have picked out. Okay, he actually bought it a few days after, but we spent that day together as a family picking one out. And I don't think I could have asked for a better day. I know, you're probably thinking that a man should get his wife flowers and candy (he did get me those too) or a trip away for the weekend or a night out on the town for the most romantic night of the year. And some of you are probably thinking that the timing couldn't be more off - I'm still fighting cancer and he's trying to get a business off the ground. We have plenty already on our plates. But bear with me and let me explain why this was truly the perfect gift.

For ten and a half years, my husband owned and operated a business that required him to work lots and lots and LOTS of hours. He would work a twelve hour day and still have paperwork to do in the evenings. Most Saturdays he also had to work, either doing maintenance on his equipment or making up for a rain day. As much as I knew he was doing this for Alex and me, it did lead to numerous fights. I often felt like a single Mom since most of our son's care fell on my shoulders. I also had a hard time making definite plans with friends (and if I did, it led to me cancelling A LOT) because if he had to work, I had to be home. I also felt like he was missing out on a lot of big family moments that couldn't be repeated. It all got harder when I was diagnosed because I had to juggle even more.

Of course, he had his own legitimate feelings. He is the main financial supporter of our household and was literally working himself to death. There were plenty of times that he would come home exhausted, I'd be a big fat nag, and he'd feel like I just didn't appreciate him.  I know he also felt like he was missing out on things and me constantly pointing that out didn't help in the least.

So, we were at odds a lot over this issue until he recently sold his business. This has allowed him to be at home much more while he is getting his next venture off the ground. We've been able to have family dinners, spend Saturdays together, make plans with friends (and keep them) and generally become much more connected. We are now a family unit, where as before it seemed like we were going in separate directions all the time.

My in-laws have an RV or travel trailer or camper - not sure the official term, along with some good friends of ours. Hearing their travel stories got my husband interested in checking them out. I was NOT at all interested until he took Alex and I to visit one a couple weekends ago. And that's when I really got what all the fuss was about. They have power. And AC. And heat. Just like a traveling house. But what really convinced me was the big old smile on Alex's face while he ran around checking out every nook and cranny. Anything that was holding me back just went out the window in that moment.

This past Monday we narrowed it down to which one we wanted and went back to the trailer place. After all the negotiations were through and we were close to the number we wanted to be at, I asked my husband why he wanted to do this. And that's when he said the sweetest words he's ever told me. He said that being home more these last few months has made him realize how much more time he wants to spend with us. How he has enjoyed the quality family time and wants to have more. Que the swooning.

For many years I so badly wanted to renew our vows for our tenth anniversary. I planned it all in my head. I've talked about it before in this space. It's something we didn't do because my husband is not a big fan of public displays of affections. On our actual wedding day, his leg was shaking so badly that people were ready to catch him if he fell. But the other day at Burton's Camper in Calera, AL, it almost felt like we had something even more special than a vow renewal. It was a recommittment to our family. It was us both deciding that, yes, we love each other enough to travel together in a very small space. I mean, if that doesn't say true love, I don't know what does. And as much as I absolutely cherish and adore my anniversary tennis bracelet, I think this RV is even sweeter. Because it's about the three of us. Going to check out the world. Together.....Please pray for us. :-)

Drive thru/microwave/impatient society

When did we all get so impatient? Or is it just me? No matter how many times God has taught me that my life is in His hands and it is all in His timing, still I wonder. I wonder why I haven't heard back on a job I'm not even really sure I want. I wonder what I should be doing to increase my writing even though it was only a few weeks ago that God showed me it was my purpose. I wonder when we will hear news about a business my husband is working on, even though we decided we wouldn't make any decisions until after today. I wonder when (and sometimes if) God will completely erase my cancer.

I feel a small sense of pride that I didn't write "worry" instead of "wonder". Because that is a step in the right direction for me. But still, me wondering is closer to the worry end of the spectrum that I'd like it to be. It's like I've given each of the above scenarios up to God, but NOT completely. I've taken nine fingers off of each thing, but still have one finger touching the issue in case I should be doing something to "help" Him. Like, maybe I should reach out to the recruiter to check on my application. Or maybe I should contact the woman who said she'd possibly help me with my writing career. Or maybe I should be online looking for new/different/additional treatment options. Or maybe I should text my husband and ask him if he has any news.

But if I did any of those things, would I honestly change the outcome? The answer is obviously no, I KNOW that. No matter what I do, I do not have control over a promotion or my husband's business or my cancer, etc. So, if I know that, why can't I just sit back and let each scenario play out? It means I'm basically talking out both sides of my mouth. I say that I trust God implicitly with my life, but on the other hand, I feel like he needs JUST A LITTLE bit of help from me. Like, if I just give Him a hand, it will all come together quicker, better, easier. But it won't....I just get in His way.

This morning when I was driving into work, I started thinking about what I was going to give up for Lent. Last year I tried giving up Facebook and that was an utter failure. The year before was sweets and for those who know my love of chocolate, you will know it had the same outcome. So I started taking inventory of my life and what needed the most work. And I realized I didn't need to give up something, I needed to stop something. I needed to stop trying so hard to help God with my life.

Just at that moment, I heard something on the radio: "God's got this". And I knew that needed to be my mantra for the next 40 days.  So simple, yet so complicated. So much easier said than done. But I decided it was short and sweet enough for me to repeat. To repeat when I find myself wondering or worrying about what the future holds. To repeat when I find myself trying to interfere or get in His way. To repeat when I am scared or afraid or nervous or anxious. To repeat when my mind is racing over the stupid minutiae of life.

So, if you see me muttering something and worry that I'm talking to myself, I probably am. I'm telling myself: "God's got this". Because He does. No matter how I may get in the way. And hopefully 40 days of repeating this will pound it into my thick skull.

What, if anything are you guys giving up? How about stopping something instead?

God bless each and everyone of you today. Remember: He's got this day in His hands.

Whose emotional baggage are you carrying around?

Yesterday I had a great conversation with my mother-in-law. We often have great talks, so I don't say that like it's a surprise. She is wonderful to me and we have a great relationship. But this was one of those REALLY great talks. Where you dive in deep to issues you've both been carrying around. Where you get to the nitty gritty of things and you both get to share what is TRULY going on in your head. Where you hang up the phone feeling much closer and realizing you have a wonderful bond.

One of the things that sticks out from this conversation is something she said to me. She told me that she was so happy that I'd finally shared with everyone about my curent fight with cancer. She was one of the few people that had known for almost a year that I was no longer in remission. She was sharing with me how she was glad that I had finally let everyone else in so they could support me and love me through it. We ventured into the reasons why I hadn't shared for so many months and this morning I was reviewing that in my head.

In a previous blog, I'd given you half a dozen reasons why I had kept it mostly a secret. I said that I didn't want to burden everyone, that I wanted to be able to be just me and not "sick me", that I didn't want to talk about it all the time and wanted to live a normal life, that I felt we had already asked so much of our family, friends and church and I didn't think it was right to keep asking for more.

But the truth of the matter is this: yes, those are some of the reasons, but not THE MAIN REASON. The truth is that I have been letting two people, yes TWO PEOPLE, determine what I am going to do, share, and talk about when it comes to my health. There were two individuals who doubted my "story" and didn't think it made sense that I didn't completely lose my hair and I never had a port, that I didn't lose a ton of weight, that I didn't lean on the nurse friends I had (even though I have about 13 nurses already) etc, etc. It was almost as if I had been called out as a liar. And I have been carrying that around with me ever since.

When we first found out about it, my husband and I didn't know who we could trust. So we pulled WAAAAY back from most everyone. And then slowly, very, very slowly, started adding people back in once we knew we could trust them. Once we knew they were not on the side of the individuals who had stated I didn't handle my cancer fight the "right way" (as if there is a right way). And as we added people back in, once we knew we could REALLY trust them, those are the individuals we shared about my health issues. But we just didn't feel like we could let it be widely known, because we felt like we would have to deal with the "doubting Thomases" again. It just seemed easier to keep it a closely held secret, easier on my sanity at least for awhile. Until it wasn't so easy. Keeping a secret of that magnitude for so many months is VERY hard and we realized it was draining us even more.

That is what led me to finally blog about it a couple weeks ago. And there was such a huge sense of relief to just get it out there. To not have to pretend why I was acting/looking/feeling sick. To not have to concoct stories as to why I couldn't attend certain functions or why I wasn't at church on certain Sundays. And the outpouring of love and support has been AMAZING. The people in our circle that truly care about us is off the charts.

And this was part of the conversation yesterday with my MIL. How people WANT to be there for us. How they WANT to help in anyway they can. She mentioned that it hurt her heart how I'd lost all those months of support. In my mind, I blamed it on those two individuals. Saying to myself: it's their fault that I had to keep this secret. But the truth is, it was mine. It was mine for giving them that much power over my own life, my own decisions. NO ONE can take that type of control without you giving it over to them. And that's exactly what I'd done. This past year I have still been carrying around all that hurt, anger, frustration, and despair over the things they said to me and behind my back. But who was the one losing by me doing that? Only me. It wasn't affecting them in the least. I had been carrying around THEIR emotional baggage for over a year and because of that, I lost out on love from the people that wanted to give it.

I hadn't done anything wrong. I hadn't lied. I hadn't told any half truths. I hadn't mislead anyone. I had simply been fighting my battle with cancer the only way I knew how. Whether they agreed with how I handled it was on THEM, not me. Whether they disliked the decisions I made was THEIR problem, not mine. But I had let it be mine all this time. Even after I "let it out" about my cancer returning, it's been in the back of my mind, wondering what they are saying now. Wondering if they are spreading the same rumors, wondering if they are still saying it doesn't make sense. How RIDICULIOUS is that? Completely ridiculious! The ONLY people I need to be concerned about knowing my truth are: God, myself, my husband and my son. That's it. Period. And it's about time I started living my life that way.

So, today my challenge is this: are you carrying around anyone else's emotional baggage? Are you living your life to avoid upsetting someone else? Has something untrue been said about you and you are letting it affect how you live your life? I beg you today to let it all go. Drop that baggage and NEVER pick it up again. It will make a HUGE difference in your life. I know it will in mine.

Happy Friday and Valentine's Day. Hope you all have a fantastic weekend. God bless and love to you all.

Cancer just SOOOOOO gets in the way

Today started out like any other normal day. One that probably mimics that of millions of other moms. Our house has been fighting the crud so all three of us woke up from a not-that-great night's sleep. My first stop was to mix up my energy drink, Matt's was to flip on Sports Center and Alex's was to grab his phone. After I got the boys out the door, I flipped on my computer since I was working from home. For the first few hours, I went back and forth between work and laundy - one of the main perks of working from the house. Second only to taking conference calls in my yoga pants. :-)

Later on I decided to run over to our local women's boutique to look for an Easter dress because I had a coupon and I LOVE my coupons. Also, I normally wait to the last second and don't end up with anything that great. I then ran some other errands, talked to a couple girlfriends and then picked up little man from the bus. I guess they were learning about Abraham Lincoln today, because first words out of his mouth were: "Ab Lincoln died". Like it happened today. Got him home and settled with his afternoon cookie and milk. While he was eating, I made his bed with the clean sheets and started on dinner.

I'd been short of breath all day, but that's nothing new. I fight it with my inhaler and other meds, but it's one of those things I deal with pretty much every day. I didn't realize today was any worse until I walked out of the kitchen to answer a question from Alex and bamm, fainted. Totally out. Well, I guess not totally because I could hear Alex asking if I was okay, but I just couldn't get my breath together to answer him. The funny thing is I could tell he was completely calm, but in my head I was a panicky mess. I kept telling myself to get it together and answer him but my brain and my lungs weren't cooperating. Finally I was able to draw in a deep breath and tell him I was fine. He was content with that and went back to playing his game on the iPad.

I stayed on the ground for a few more minutes until I felt well enough to get up. And once I felt a bit more normal (what is normal anyway?) I started to get pissed off. Today had been such a good day! I'd been so accomplished! I'd even gotten Alex a little Valentine's Day basket, I'd found cute birthday presents for our friend's daughters, I'd even gotten the car washed, which I knew would make my hubby so happy. I'd checked so many things off my list. Those are what I call my "good days". Days when I handle all the things that are floating around in my head. Days when I get to be just a regular old working Mom and wife.

But after these fainting episodes, I start questioning all the things I should/shouldn't do. Tomorrow we are supposed to drive about an hour and a half from home for the birthday party. Will I be okay to go? Will it happen again? But I WANT to go! I want to see my friend and her girls. I want Alex to have fun with his friends. I just want to be NORMAL, do normal things like everyone else. It's something we've had on the calendar for a month and I want TO GO! Yes, it does make me feel better to put things in caps - eases my frustration a bit. Some people use a punching bag, I use all caps and exclamation points.

And then when I get frustrated over things I might not be able to do, the tears start to come. Tears of frustration and annoyance and loss of independence and how much this *&%^$^ disease is controlling my life. The tears are completely counter productive but they help to just get it all out. And those tears bring me back to reality.

My reality is I have breast cancer that has metastasized to my lung. That's my norm. That's my life. Good, bad or indifferent. I can't change the cards I'm dealt, only handle them the best I can. So, instead of worrying about tomorrow and what I might be able to do or not do, I sit here and I write. And even more than the tears, it helps me feel a bit better. I don't write for your sympathy, I write to get it all out of my head. Because I can't live with cancer in my head AND in my lung. I can only handle it in one place.

Thank you for giving me this forum to actually get it out of my head. Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring. And most of all, thank you for loving me: crazy ramblings, cancer and all. Love to you all and God bless.

"Good job" and "thank you" are more than just words

Recently someone that I used to support at work changed positions. She wasn't someone I was paid to support, but I had a lot of respect for her, we had become good friends and I thought it was a good career move. She has been with our company for over fifteen years, she knows EVERYONE and I thought if she liked the work that I did, she would maybe share it with a couple people. Which she did - a lot. She is the type of person who will gladly give you credit when you do a good job on a project. So, when I found out she was moving to a different division, I was sad personally and professionally. I thought this meant we wouldn't get to chat as much and I wouldn't get to keep assisting her and getting my name out. As I re-read those words, they seem a bit cold, like I was using our friendship to get ahead. But it really wasn't like that. I work for a large company and you have to take every opportunity you can for people to recognize what you're capable of.

As her last day came and went, my friend mentioned that I should apply for her old position. I just didn't think I had the capability to fill her shoes, so I didn't give it much more thought. Someone else suggested it about a month ago and I mulled it over but then I learned you had to live in Minnesota, and there was no chance of this Alabama girl moving there. Then last week, during my review, my boss and I were discussing how I'd been in my position for 5 1/2 years and I was feeling a bit bored. He said "why don't you apply for Sandy's old position?" I told him about it being in Minnesota and he said he could ask if that could be changed, but I decided not to have him pursue it.

Then this morning, just as I turned on my computer, I received an instant message from Sandy. She said, "hey, you've been on my mind all night and I really think you need to apply for that position." As you have all probably learned by now, I had several objections in my head. "But the person has to be in Minnesota". She told me that decision was made by only one person and could be changed. I told her the job was too many pay grades above me and she said that could be worked out. I told her that I didn't think I could do all she had done and this was her response: "If your current boss thinks you can do it and the person who used to do the work says you can, why don't YOU think you can?" I told her that I wasn't sure I was up for such a big career move, that I thought my end goal was to eventually stay at home and not work. To which she replied: "But I thought you were bored doing what you're doing?"

Well, she had me there. I am bored. I really can't say I like going to work. I've been doing it for so long now that I feel like I can do it in my sleep. Just don't tell my boss that....And that's partly why I've gotten so excited about writing. I thought it meant that my job would just be my job (no matter how lackluster and how I wished I didn't have to go) and I'd get my true fulfillment from doing this. So, I'd given up on the idea of moving up at work because I was just holding out for the day I didn't have to go, even if that was years from now. Maybe not the best attitude to have, but I couldn't imagine a role opening up that I could move into. Until today.

It was interesting timing because my husband and I were talking about some other things last night that we were giving up to God, one of them being two new business ventures he's trying to decide between. Depending on which one God leads us towards, I definitely wouldn't be able to take the new job anyway. With the hours he'd have to work, it would be impossible for me to take on added responsibility at my job. He'd be working 70+ hours a week the first year and I would need to be the main caregiver for our son. But if God points us in the other direction, there would be a little more latitude. So, I figured, if we are giving that part of our lives up to God, why not this as well. I could apply for the job and leave it in His hands. If He wants me to have it, great. If He doesn't, well, then I'm not out anything. But if I DIDN'T apply then I could have been getting in His way. I mean, God is ultimately in control, but He expects us to do some of the work ourselves.

So, application sent and I decided to fill in my boss. He was perfectly fine with it and said he would help in any way he could. Filled in Sandy and she was super excited. Told the people that I'd used for references and repeat the excitement. And guess what happened next? I started to get a bit excited myself. I mean, who doesn't like to hear others say they'd be great at something? Who doesn't like to have their ego stroked just a bit? Do I ultimately think the upper echelon will see it our way? Nope? But did that matter today? Nope.

Today was about knowing that others thought I could handle it, that I offered value, that they found me deserving and were in my corner to help however they could. And even though we shouldn't need that external affirmation, truth is we do. I KNOW it's not just me. Yeah, yeah, I could be writing a blog where I say: I SHOULDN'T have needed to hear that. I SHOULD have known it myself. I SHOULD have applied without the others pushing me.

But I'm trying to get away from the "shoulds" and "shouldn'ts". Truth is, we're humans and we care about what other people think. We need to hear a "good job" every once in awhile. We need to feel like the team needs us and wouldn't be the same without us. Even if the other job doesn't come through, I feel better today about the one I have. Tomorrow I don't think I'll be dreading heading that way as much. Because I learned that "they like me, they really like me". Just kidding - I couldn't resist on that one. No, seriously though, I learned that I am an asset to the team and that means a lot. Now I just might try a bit harder and who knows, that might catch someone else's eye and another opportunity might come up.

But in the mean time, I walked away with this question: how often do I tell someone "good job"? How often do I let someone know that I appreciate them or I like what they've done or say thank you? I try to do it when I think about it, but I'm sure I could do it more. And knowing how much it meant to me, I am going to do it more. Because I'd like others to have the same feeling I had today.

Is there someone you can say "good job" to or "thank you" or let them know how much you appreciate them? Just imagine if we all told one person tomorrow? Just a thought....

Hope everyone has a great night! God bless and love to you all.

Grieving the loss of something you never had

It was several years ago, when my husband and I were trying so hard to have our son. I was having lunch with a friend who also had dealt with infertility. Big difference is she had gone on to have a child, while I was still trying and trying and getting nowhere. And being told it probably wouldn't happen. And doing my best not to give up hope and/or turn bitter. She was my "go-to" on all things fertility related because she had "been there done that". Until that day at afternoon over chicken salad. That day it was her turn to vent about how much she desperately wished she could have another child. How it was a physical pain that she couldn't get to go away. How it was all she could think about and, no, adoption wouldn't do. I remember sitting across from her thinking, "but you have one. You should feel lucky. How can you be so upset when you have the one thing I want?"

Of course I said none of this to her. But I could feel the shift in myself immediately. I went home and told the whole story to my husband. About how ungrateful I thought she was. And didn't she realize how blessed she was? Of course he agreed with me. I mean, I was hormonal and teetering on the edge of a complete come apart - wouldn't you agree with me as well? Who knows if he really agreed or was just pacificing me. Who knows if he was actually thinking: "you are being so judgmental." Because I was. 1000%, completely judgmental. I thought she was completely wrong in her feelings. And it wasn't until last night that I realized how wrong I was. Because I finally gave into the same feelings.

When my husband and I were going through fertility treatments, we both agreed that we would stop trying when I turned 35. By the grace of God, I found out I was pregnant with Alex a week before that birthday. There never was any discussion of having a second, at least not before he was born. We were just so ecstatic to have our miracle baby. Soon after his birth, there was some discussion about how it was too late for another one, our finances could only handle one at that time, we'd have to try right away for another and we were so blessed with the one we had. I was completely on board with that decision.

Alex was born with some health issues so I knew trying right away wasn't an option. He stayed sick most of the time until he was just past three. Then it was almost the "honeymoon phase". We got to enjoy our son without tons of doctor appointments, sleepless nights, etc. It was the three of us and I was thrilled to just be a mom and have fun with our silly boy. It wasn't until he turned four that I started missing the idea of having a second child. I'm sure it was because he was going from a toddler to little boy. But I remember the night before his birthday being very sad that there wouldn't be another baby in the house anymore.

I told myself again how blessed we were. That he was our miracle baby. That I'd had surgery making it virtually impossible to carry another child. I told myself to get over it. And I pretty much did. Until Alex turned about five and started praying for a brother or sister. We had shared with him the story of him being a miracle, so no matter how many times I told him it wasn't possible, he said God could give us another miracle. And even though it hurt my heart a tiny bit each time he prayed, I told  myself to get over it.

As Alex got closer to six, there were many conversations between friends about the differences between only children and those with siblings. And I would feel sad that Alex didn't have a best buddy at home. But I told myself to get over it. We are blessed. Alex is more than enough for us to handle (although I love him dearly) and two just wasn't in the cards. I kept telling myself that feeling sad that I didn't have two was like looking a gift horse in the mouth. God had answered our prayers, given us Alex, so we should be content with him and not long for more.

And I just kept telling myself all of that over and over. Until last night. It was a random conversation with Alex. He was mentioning how he wished he had a brother or sister to love like our friends did. And it hit me a lot harder than it had before. Because I also wanted that for him. And that's when I remembered my lunch with that old friend, where I had judged her for the same feelings. I realized that she had wanted another child for herself but also another child for her son to grow up with. And it hadn't made her selfish or wrong to have those feelings. And it took me having the sames ones to understand that.

Then something else hit me - telling yourself to "get over it" doesn't make those feelings just go away. It just stuffs them into another place that you don't pay attention to, that you ignore, that doesn't see the light of day. To TRULY get past something, you have to admit to yourself the desire you have and then grieve the losss of that desire.

Today I admit that I wished we'd been able to have another child. I wish it for myself and I wish it for Alex. I wish that I could have had a baby that wasn't born sick so I could have truly enjoyed those first years a bit more. I wish I could see Alex playing with a brother or sister and see how they would interact. I wish I could give Alex what he prays for so often. I wish I could see how his personality would have handled having a sibling - would he have been jealous or would he have embraced having another baby in the house? I wish I could hear the pitter patter of four feet instead of two.

I used to think that if I admitted these things out loud, that it took away from how much I love Alex and how INCREDIBLY grateful I am for him. I KNOW we are blessed. I KNOW that there are women out there who would trade places with me in a heartbeat. I am sure of this, because I was one of them. If I was reading this blog when I still didn't have a child, I would be telling the writer: you just dont' realize how blessed you are. But I DO know. But I now am giving myself permission to have the other emotions. I realize as I write this that the two things aren't mutually exclusive. I don't have to apologize for wishing I could have had more Alexs.

So, now that I have admitted the desire, I can get on to the grieving part. Because the truth is, there won't be any more Alexs. It is physically impossible now. The choice isn't even ours to make. And seeing that in black and white is a bit hard to take. Because I want it to be different. But it's our truth. And sometimes acknowledging that truth makes it easier to move on.

I don't have any answers for how to handle the grieving process over something you never had. But writing this today is a start. Just finally getting it "out there" is already a bit healing. And maybe tonight I'll spend just a few extra minutes tucking in the boy I do have.

Do you have any hidden feelings that you've been afraid to admit, even to yourself? Do you think those feelings will make you selfish or a bad person? Please know that your feelings aren't wrong. You are entitled to each and every one of them. Try today admitting something to yourself that you've been afraid to let out into the light. And if you can handle that, maybe share it with a friend who won't judge you. If you don't think your friends would understand, please pray about it. Because God already knows each thought anyway. Nothing you say will surprise Him.

Have a fantastic weekend. Love to you all.