So, this is my first "official" blog. For the past year I've been writing on my daughter's Caringbridge website, which is a great place for people facing critical illnesses to update friends and family. But so much of what my heart wanted to share just didn't seem appropriate for that, or for my daughter to read. I mean, how can a mom write about the way her heart aches every time she sees her 23 year old baby poked in the chest to get her port accessed for the hundredth time knowing that she will read that? Or the first time I saw her without hair. Her long beautiful black hair, gone, because of deadly chemicals that are supposed to save her life? How I cry for the life she should be having, the vacations, the job, the babies, the songs she wants to write, the mountains she wants to climb, the dreams that every 23 year old has... No, those are not things moms share with their kids. It's the on the job training we get that starts the the first time our child steps on glass and blood is everywhere, and we really want to freak out and throw up, but we stay cool and calm. At least until we call for dad, then we freak out and throw up.
So, after 5 kids I am fully trained on being cool and collected in the face of any calamity. Which is a good thing with cancer. Whether it was the 60 staples across her abdomen after an unsuccessful tumor removal surgery (yes, I looked) or the endless vomiting of every substance and color during chemo or the painful heart to heart talks we still have about life and death and babies and such. Yes, this mom is cool and calm enough to speak words of life and strength to her without too many tears....but here I will not be so strong or even pretend. Because you are not really strong when your baby is facing death, not ever. Only God will get us through this.