Oh my sweet baby, your heart is clearly hurting. Every time we are not together, whomever you are with you pick flowers for me. Today you were Daddy and your picked these beautiful purple flowers for me "for when I'm in the hospital." I hate that my looming surgery is on the forefront of your mind but I am so thankful for your kind heart and empathy.
portait of a calla lily
portrait of a mum
a rose
always
Oh sweet boy, my littlest love, you are getting so big. I am trying to figure out how much longer I'll be able to hoist you up and carry you through the house. You still ask me to hold you and Tiny I'll hold you as long as my arms can carry you, and when you are too big for my arms, sweet boy, I'll carry you forever in my heart. All night and all day.
strongly cmet positive
The title doesn't mean much to most, but those of us who were waiting for the genetics to come back on my tumor it's a big freaking deal. The chemo I am on is called a cmet inhibitor and we started me on it before we actually knew my cancer had a cmet mutation. The fact that the pathologist referred to it as 'strongly cmet positive' means we are doing something to treat this shit.
There is good everywhere, we hold our breath for Oct 10 scans.
every dog deserves a boy
day date
Day date involving watching a storm and ice cream, perfect in my books.
summertime
movie date
Motherhood is (heartbreaking)
Motherhood is that heartbreaking conversation you have to have with your child when your cancer has returned, he's only 4. If anyone is equipped to have a conversation with a little person it's me, I do this for a living but holy hell it is so much harder when you have such dark thoughts inundating you; what if I don't get to see him graduate elementary school? What if I don't get to help him pick a college? What if I'm not there to cheer for him at all his events? I vowed not to go there, not now.
I sat my sweet innocent wided eyed boy down and said "there are bad cells in my knee now and we would have to do surgery," bless this sweet boy because he said "ok." I told him "Dr. Parker would have to take off my leg because of the bad cells." The only appropriate response popped out of his mouth, "how will you walk?" "I'll get a robot leg a little bit after my surgery." "A ROBOT LEG! All my friends will be so jealous because my Mommy has a robot leg." I can't even, I nearly died, God I love him so much.
One night this past week, when I was putting him down for bed, he asked me to come back and I said "before I go to bed I'll come back and check on you." He innocently said "but I won't know you are here if I cannot see you." Oh holy hell, I vowed to teach him where teaching presents itself. We talked about when someone is in our heart we do not need to see them to know they are with us. When you love someone so very much they are always in your heart. That seemed to satiate his innate curiosity.
Since that day we've had some conversations throughout the month here and there when appropriate, he seems to understand--I know there is no real preparing a child for something this life changing.
We have 7 weeks until the surgery. Over the next 7 weeks we will Disney, we will hike the mountains, we will ride bikes and we will love hard because that's all I know how to do.
Motherhood blog circle is a celebration of mother's through photographs. To continue on this journey follow this link to see Courtney's thoughts.
raindrops on daisies
because four
fishy
puddles
Summer in Florida.