Then and Now

May 18, 2007

A day that would change my life forever. 

Eight months pregnant, waddling, feet-swollen-me stepped into a surgeon's office to get a core biopsy of my breast to determine whether or not the huge lump I was feeling was, in fact, breast cancer.  Three hours later my worst fears were confirmed.  Three hours after that I was driving to the hospital clutching my pillow and praying fervently for the baby that I was about to deliver by induction.  Well, the word "about" is used loosely here.  Ethan wasn't born until 2:22am on May 20, 2007.

The ups and downs that a new mom feels after delivering a baby was nothing compared to the rollercoaster of emotions that I would feel over the next several months. 

One minute I would be perfectly content looking into the eyes of my baby and the next moment I would be sobbing with the thought running through my head: "what if I'm not here for him?".  "What if the cancer has spread?". 

I will never forget feeling so strong and actually cracking jokes as I was getting ready to have my mastectomy.  And then the nurse who was trying to get my IV started blew a vein in my hand and I lost it.  Literally.  Sobbing. Tears streaming down my face.  My husband and my dad didn't know what to do or what to say.  Something so small in the grand scheme of things set me off.  But isn't that how it always is?

We can sometimes brace ourselves for the big disappointments and hurts in life and then something seemingly so small will set us off and the floodgates open and a years worth of sadness is finally released and freed.

I felt sorry for myself at times and at other times I felt as if I was a messenger of hope and faith to those who had none left.  I felt like the world's worst mother at times when I wasn't physically strong enough to hold my baby from the chemo effects and at other times I felt as if I could conquer the world.  I questioned God's fairness and purpose for allowing me to experience something so dreadful and other times I praised Him for opening my eyes to what it truly meant to have faith and to blindly trust.  I feared and worried for my future with my family and at other times an overwhelming peace raced through my body.

Somehow and for some reason I made it through to the other end of this cancer thing successfully.  Scratch that.  By God's miracle and grace the 7 X 9 centimeter tumor had not spread to the lymph nodes and the doctor's believed that through a rigorous treatment regiment of chemotherapy and radiation they could knock this thing out of my body.  Am I out of the woods entirely?  Of course not.  There is always the chance that this ugly thing could recur.  I go to my oncologist every four months for blood draws/tumor markers, every year for chest X-rays and mammograms and when they feel that it's necessary I go for a PET scan, which is the dreaded test for claustrophobic- me. :-)

May 18, 2011

Some days I forget that I am a cancer survivor. 

Some days I feel pretty normal. 

But I'm going to be candid here and say some things that are pretty open about my body and the physical changes I've gone through.  Because of the urgency to get Ethan delivered, me into surgery and treatment and have some sort of "maternity leave" with my son I was unable to have reconstructive surgery.  So yes, I only have one boob.  I have a prosthetic breast that fits into special bras.  So do I get to go into Victoria's Secret and pick out some cute little bras when I go shopping?  Nope.  I even have to be careful of what types of tops I purchase because if I bend over too much you can tell I have no cleavage.  I know that I'm getting into some private territory here, but if I can help people understand the huge impact that this has on women then I have accomplished something.  I also have no desire to be around anyone but family in a swimsuit.  Do they make swimsuits for women who have had a mastectomy? Sure.  But does that make me feel more comfortable? No.  Depending on the type and style, you can still see my scar through the under arm area.  Plus I still have about 30 pounds to lose that I haven't got rid of in 4 years after two pregnancies and chemo treatments.  Sigh. :-)

I also think it's important to get real and talk about what makes a woman feel like a woman. 

What distinguishes us from men?  Basically our boobs and our hair, right?  Yes, I know there are other things, but let's just go with the PG version, ok? Thanks.  So what happens to a woman going through breast cancer and chemotherapy?  You lose a boob (or possibly both) and your hair. Hmmm...  Wonder why we don't feel as confident? As pretty? Yes, there are wigs, bandanas, hats.  Yes, there is reconstructive surgery.  But let's face it.  We're losing something that has been a part of us our WHOLE life.  It's just not easy.  And for those wondering, yes I would love to get reconstructive surgery.  And if anyone can figure out how I would schedule that into my life ...please let me know! :-)  It is at least a 4-6 week recovery process.  I work full time and I have a 4 year old and a 10 month old.  I don't think that they would "get" leaving mommy alone and my inability to pick them up for that long.  So, yes it's something I would absolutely love to do one day for myself but right now I guess I just can't figure out how it would work.

I know that some of my comments are straight-forward and blunt, but I think it's important to understand that this is something that you just don't go through for a little while and then move on from.  I truly am happy in my life and I have a wonderful husband and two awesome kids.  But I am reminded that I am a breast cancer survivor every day of my life from my scars and body changes.  I can't walk around the house without a bra on because I feel unbalanced and my back begins to hurt.  And because I'm not an A cup, you can TELL I have no bra on.  So I don't take the chance that no one is going to unexpectedly knock on my door on a Saturday morning.  I'm prepared. :-)

Even with all of the above reminders, I can honestly say that I have come through this a true survivor and my faith is stronger because of our trials.  My God showed me that He is bigger than anything our enemy tries to shove our way.  I have a loving husband that cares nothing about the changes that have been made to my body and he continues to love me for who I am and I love him for who he is.  My kids don't know that their mom has a fake boob.  Well, actually Ethan does but I don't think he gets it.  He's been in the bathroom with me when my boob is sitting on the back of the toilet before I get into the shower.  He seems to accept my answer of "that's mommy's boob".  And proceeds to pee and move on with his four year old life.  My kids unconditionally love me.  I am unconditionally loved by many people in my life.  And I am happy.  But I also have a new reality and that is I am a survivor of breast cancer for 4 years (and counting). 

Courage is Fear that has said it's prayers.


Oh, yes. Yes it is.