The Journey Continues...

Life looks different than it did in October. Thank God for that. John was discharged from the hospital in November, just before Thanksgiving. There was an urgency in this, as John had to begin proton radiation therapy no later than 8 weeks after his surgery on October 6th. The tumor was cancerous. But it was also curable. Curable means that it is treated and never comes back. 

There were 2 proton therapy places near-ish. One in Irving, TX, the other in Tennessee. Joe's family lives 20 minutes from Irving, so it was a no brainer. Joe and I made many life changing decisions in a matter of days...Joe's active duty with the Marine Corps was over. We needed to decide where we'd move, a job, insurance...decisions most couples get months to decide. We had days. All we knew was that our son needed this life saving radiation. 

So to Texas we went. We arrived, unpacked, and slept. The next day was the beginning. Appointments, appointments, appointments. Never ending. It still isn't ending. We went through 6 weeks of radiation, Monday-Friday beginning at 4am. He handled it like a champ. He wasn't nauseous or angry...he just lost his hair in the back. The rest started to grow from being shaved off for surgery.

6 weeks went by, we rang the gong...and now we just monitor.

We had an ICU stay in February due to a cold...a cold. A cold can land him in the ICU. We only left the house for appointments. Winter is dangerous now.

But summer is here, and things are better.

So far we've had 2 MRIs, and they both have been clear. We are fixing to have our 3rd one at the end of the month. If it is clear, they will remove his chemo port. He never got chemo, by the way. They also ended up getting 100% of the tumor the first time...

The oncologist wanted a 2nd surgery, but the neurologist wasn't sure. She pushed for multiple MRIs to be done...the spot the team thought was residual tumor was a healing sponge. They'd gotten it all. A miracle!

Life is getting better, more stable...John has a trach and is fed through a g tube. He can't talk, but one day he will. It isn't forever. We will start feeding therapy soon...so there's hope. Lots of hope.

The Forgotten Mom

Forgotten...

Like the dried green kale as a garnish on a fancy plate.

Sometimes that's how motherhood feels. It's not that anyone is purposefully making me feel that way. It's just how it is.

Missing out on a family vacation.

Not having a friend to dress up and go see Barbie with.

Two babies and four walls are the ones who see me the most. 

I know it's a season.

I know it won't always be this way.

But it doesn't make it any less hard going through it. 

So if you're feeling forgotten or discarded...know you aren't alone.

A Journey I Never Wanted Part 6

This isn't what I signed up for.

That's the thought going through my head at 9:26am. I've already wiped up buckets of mucus, followed with vomit, and as of a few minutes ago, blood. Most moms are feeling frazzled because they can't get their $6 coffee down without someone asking for a snack.

I'm not frazzled. I'm stripped down to the nerve. Exposed and feeling pain with every new situation that comes, one right after another. 

They say you'll never have a clean house with boys. I'd give anything to not

have human secretions on me for 3 minutes. 

This isn't what I signed up for. 

I knew motherhood would be hard. But I was only told of a hard that included late night feedings, diapers, and wondering if you're raising them right. Not wondering if you can keep them alive. 

I was told the joys would outweigh the sorrows immeasurably. Right now, my sorrows box is overflowing, and my joys box is gathering dust. 

I should be grateful. I should be, I should be, I should be. 

But right now, all I can think, is this isn't what I signed up for. This isn't what I wanted. I am so tired. I am so so tired, and running on an endless field of nails. I have no tears left in my body. I don't even know if I have anger. All I have left is misery. Any smile I can manage, I give to John. There's nothing left in me to offer anyone, including myself. 

I am empty. But I have to keep going. 

I just have to trust that the Bible is truth. Oh how I need it to be true. Please be true. It's the only hope I've got left to hold.