A slice of my life and adventures that you can read while eating a sandwich. From traveling the world, to personal hardship, to posts about pie- its all here folks. Enjoy!
The Paradox of Choice
Get link
Facebook
X
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps
I implore you, watch this video. It is so worth your time.
“How are you doing with that aspect of things?” my friends ask cautiously and kindly. I’m quiet for a minute as my mind flashes back to that small, tiny, windowless room where I sat on the paper stretched across a chair, perched above everyone else. “I heard that you were about to start trying for a second baby.” The doctor says matter-of-factly. “Yes.” I reply quietly. “We were supposed to start trying this week.” “That’s probably not a good idea now.” “Yes,” my voice breaks. “I know that. We’ve come to terms with that.” “It wouldn’t be wise to go off medication again, not with a recurrence this soon since your initial diagnosis.” I nod. Unable to form the words. They come out between tears. “Yes, I know we won’t be having any more children.” Sure, we have “come to terms with it” in a sense, yes, but how can one ever prepare for this reality? For the news of cancer but also the news that you will never again carry a baby in your womb? That just as you had prepared...
Is kindness as potent as medicine? I'm starting to think so. Last week I really wanted to give up. It all felt so hard and so disheartening. It was a perfect storm of a difficult chemo cycle (including Emma growing molars!) and I really didn't know how to put one foot in front of the other anymore. And then my people showed up. On Instagram and Facebook you all told me to stay strong and keep going. In my texts and on written prayers dropped off at my house, you all told me that God was with me and that I could do this. You all believed in me. You believed that I was indeed mighty, and you prayed for me. As I read each and every word of encouragement, I felt my body shore up a bit. My strength reserves started to feel a little more full, and resolve crept back into my bones. Simple words were my medicine. (Along with a bunch of actual medicine, of course.) With these simple words, like being told I was prayed for by someone who doesn't even believe in praye...
Well, it has been a whirlwind. I came back from a wonderful trip to Denmark, had a biopsy two days later, was diagnosed three days later, and had surgery just three short weeks after that. Honestly, I am so comfortable in my body since surgery. Sure, I look different, but we all look different and I'm not 25 anymore, so I look different anyways. We have had many days of sorrow in our house. Sorrow that we cannot have any more children. Sorrow that I have to go through chemotherapy again. Sorrow for the time I will miss with friends and for the days when I haven't been able to care for Emma. But we have also had many moments of joy. Joy for good surgery results. Joy for the ways our community is taking care of us here in Tennessee and beyond. Joy for every day that we have together. Joy for kitchen dance parties with Emma, extra cookies at snack time, and for every good and beautiful person and comment we have encountered. People often exclaim that they are amazed by ho...
Comments
Post a Comment