Moms Don’t Get Sick

November 14th, 2022 started our fight against cancer. It’s been an entire year now. When I was diagnosed, we didn’t know if one year later was even a possibility. When I found out my cancer had metastasized to my brain, the dream of many years to come went up in smoke. Jokes on you, cancer…I made it.

In a year, we saw our baby grow from an infant to a toddler. Bo can kick, swing, throw, and hit a ball like a professional athlete. He can sing most nursery rhythms and is obsessed with all cars, baby sharks, and his best friend, Lexi. He’s my daredevil baby who welcomes me each morning with a loud and loving “HI MAMA” and my heart could just explode. He takes his dragon stuffed animal everywhere he goes and he has an unhealthy addiction to Halloween but I’m not sure where that comes from…This year he found his love for lollipops and being outside from dawn till dusk. He will never pass up a snuggle session with a nice, cold baba. I saw him grow for a whole year that I wasn’t sure I’d have.

In a year, Claire graduated from preschool and started kindergarten. I watched as my petite, feisty baby climbed the giant stairs to her seat on the bus and waved goodbye to me. I watched as she got home that afternoon and ran into my arms and each day after that. We watched as she performed for her dance recital and was the best in her class…i’m not bias, I’m only speaking the truth. She turned 5 this past July and went from our little toddler to a big kid in the blink of an eye. She loves to help mommy bake and loves to goof around with daddy. She has learned her ABC’s and colors inside the lines. She loves to put on musical acts with her big sister. She learned how to ride a scooter and plans to one day be a pilot who bakes on the side and is a mom. I saw her grow for a whole year that I wasn’t sure I’d have.

In a year, Maggie went from a kid to this TALL blossoming young woman. My baby…the one who was born on the first day of medical school. The one who we watched grow up as we did the same. The one who loves make up and fashion. She demands to do her own hair every morning and her new bangs make her feel like the fashionista she is. She started second grade where she is learning to read, learning Spanish, and excelling at making friends. I watched as she lost more and more teeth and that smile of hers became more and more perfect. She also performed in her dance recital where she was the star of the show. I watched her perform in her second grade concert where she dressed up as a panda. She started Irish dancing this year and is dominating. My Scottish grandmother would have mixed feelings about this but it’s close enough! Our Maggie could not be more incredible and her constant growth just amazes me each and every day. I saw her grow for a whole year that I wasn’t sure I’d have.

I saw my three babies continue to live life to the fullest this past year. It wasn’t the picture perfect year of growth we had imagined but it was exactly that…a year of growth. I find myself struggling to get my words out because I keep thinking about this last year and how it feels like a lifetime. My kids were in a situation this past year that they couldn’t completely grasp but used their unbelievable strength to get through. They snuggled me when I was down, made sure they constantly told me they loved me, and would greet me like a superstar each time I arrived home from an appointment. The girls will dress in pink whenever they have the chance. They come down the stairs and show me with such pride and I could just melt away. One day, I hope they understand how much they got me through this last year.

Cancer can seem like a private battle at times. There’s no door you can lock or person you can send to jail. The fight is happening inside you. There’s no update daily of how the medicines are working. There’s no daily check in to see if the tumors are gone. There’s no way of saying that when the tumors do go away they won’t come back. These thoughts are constantly spiraling in my mind but there is an endless amount of people who help me through that makes this battle not just my own.

When we publicly announced my cancer, the amount of people that came forward to show their support was unreal. People I hadn’t spoken to in years but immediately wrote to me to let me know they were supporting me and would help me however they could. Family friends of many years, immediately went to my mom to see what they could do. I was sent an endless amount of inspirational gifts that we started calling it “Cancer Christmas”. The love from people who just came running to our side was unbelievable. People who a year later STILL check in on me daily or who cheer me on as I hit every new milestone.

When I had my first biopsy scheduled, I told my friend group in the neighborhood. We had been having coffee days once a week and were getting closer as friends but I don’t think any of us were prepared for the text I would have to send out the day of my results. I had called multiple people already and wasn’t fully wrapping my own head around what I was saying. I sent them a long text that my lump wasn’t a simple fix and I had been diagnosed with at least stage 3 breast cancer. That’s when a sisterhood was born. These ladies jumped into action. I had a meal train within hours. They threw me a party the day I went to get my chemo port surgery with breast cancer banners and motivational stickers. They put together a bag of things I might need for surgery and chemo along with notes from all of them which just added to the unreal love I felt from these incredible friends. They are now stuck with me for life because who can stop being friends with the cancer girl??

I also have my three ride or dies, who never knew that statement would become an actual possibility. When I had to call these three to tell them what had happened, my heart was completely ripped out and stomped on. Come on, being my friend in the first place is hard enough. I’m unhinged and they never know what i’ll do or say. I’m sure “I have cancer” was never something they expected me to say though. I love to text them when some random old man at the cancer center tells me “you’re too young for cancer” and they rip him to shreds in our group chat. I love to send them unannounced pictures of my scare or naked body to compare myself to a Men in Black character. I send them updates on my hair growth or some days I just send “Holy shit, this sucks” and we bitch back and forth and it’s extremely therapeutic. They have carried me through this even though they live miles away. I truly do not deserve them.

I’ve written about it before that telling my parents was the hardest thing I had to do that day. My dad was the first person to know besides Sam and I. I called my dad because I knew my mom would need him there when she found out. I honestly also knew I needed his “we got this” attitude. My brother and I weren’t speaking when I found out about my cancer. Without getting too much into his business, he was struggling in his own life without the news but when my dad told him what was happening he jumped in the car. Normal people would have hugged when they saw their brother after a cancer diagnosis but I started yelling at him, hitting him, and then saying “fine, we can be friends again”. We sat in my living room as we brainstormed how to move forward. My phone was constantly ringing to make all the new appointments I would need to start this journey. As we made our game plan, we switched from laughing and crying and it seems like that’s been the case for the last year. I share a lot about my battle with cancer but you get the news after we have processed it ourselves and that’s not always the easiest. I can’t imagine watching one of my daughters cry on the bathroom floor as the chemotherapy unapologetically takes over her body. I never had to see them come home from a major surgery that would change her appearance in a large way. I never had to watch as the words “the cancer has spread to my brain” came out of their mouths. My parents and brother have received each new advancement or set back with me in the last year. If you think I’m exhausted, they have to deal with all this and my morbid sense of humor!

Now, this past year has been very hard on my body but it has been relentless to my husband’s mind. This man has stood next to me in everything I’ve fought. He held my hand, rubbed my back, and cheered me on through every treatment. He talked openly about everything the doctor said that I didn’t understand or couldn’t wrap my head around. He graduated from residency, took care of our family, started a new job, took care of our home, and made sure there was never a day where the cancer was winning. I fight this cancer but so does he. If I were to pass, my journey is over and a whole new one would just be beginning for him. With each new piece of unsettling information, he had to handle it with me physically but then he had to handle it mentally. He had to wonder if this was something we could bounce back from or if this was the time to think of what’s to come. He would battle these thoughts privately but that didn’t mean he ever gave up on me being able to beat this. Even when I was sobbing that this fight was too much, he would let me swim in my tears and then build me right back up. Imagine, a theater kid with a terminal disease…the drama is unreal. The things this poor man has been through and somehow he is still the strongest person I know or will ever know.

November 14, 2022, I heard the words “unfortunately, it is breast cancer”. I would sit in a small office as I was told it wasn’t a cut out and forget about it cancer. It was a fight for your life cancer. It was a fight to see the milestones, to see the dance recitals, to see the first day of schools. I saw a life I hadn’t lived yet flash before my eyes. I am happy to say that I’ve had a year of those milestones now. I lived a year that I wasn’t sure I would have. A year in fighting this cancer. A year with the people I love. Thank you to every person who has held me up during this craziness. Especially the ones I listed above. I will never be able to thank you all enough. Here’s to many more years of life!