10 Things I learned in 2015

While I don't want to spend too much time dwelling on the past year, I do feel the need to write and express the things that stood out to me. It was A. Crazy. Year. But I think we can all agree that when we walk through valleys we come out the other side full of new experiences, perspectives, and wisdom. So straight to it, the top ten things I learned in this valley of 2015:

10. I'm not defined by my body or appearance. 

Take a young, semi-confident woman, shave her bald and cut off her boobs and you'll watch her confidence go with her hair. This was a hard lesson to learn this year! I didn't realize how vain I was or how much thought I put into my appearance until my appearance was taken from me. Sure, my hair is growing back, and I will have reconstruction hopefully in the next month, but I have a lot of scars, and I can tell physically that I'll just never be the same. Thank goodness there is more to me than my body and the way that I look! I still love taking care of myself and wearing make up and being a woman, but I no longer stress about the way my body looks in clothes or if my hair is having a crazy day. Walk it off. You're bigger than that.

9. I'm stronger than I thought.

I'm not giving myself credit here, because as I've already said, it was the Lord and my friends and family who pulled me through this past year. BUT, the mental game is huge, especially when fighting cancer, and it turns out my mental game is strong. Well, either strong or stubborn. Maybe a healthy dose of both.

8. Life in community is better than life alone.

I can't stress this enough, and yet it also seems I can't drill this into my strong stubborn mind either. Just this past week we had to start a new small group at church, all new people starting over with all new stories and I didn't want to go! Mark practically had to drag me. Even though our past small groups have been the bomb and so worth it, I just wanted to stay home. But really....I've learned my lesson. I know life in community is better. It's how God created us. Even if I don't want to admit it and sometimes I end up rocking in the fetal position in the corner from social overload.

7. We can all relate to heartache.

Pain is pain, and grief is grief, no matter the form it comes in. Whether it's a miscarriage, depression, the death of a friend or family member, an emotional wound, a divorce, or a cancer diagnosis, it all hurts, and every hurt counts. Your hurt might not be the same as mine, but it matters just as much, and we can lean on each other and carry each other through all the different circumstances that make our hearts ache.

6. My time is more valuable than I realized.

The mom, wife, homemaker job isn't exactly high paying. In fact, I earn approximately zero dollars taking care of my kids, husband and house. Rewarding? YES. But I don't get a lot of praise for it and sometimes I wonder how valuable I actually am at home. This past year I realized how much I actually do, and I think my husband and kids realized it too. At one particular meeting I was having with my friend Libby, while we were coordinating all the meals and childcare and cleaning for the week, she said to me, "look at all these different people we are having to get just to do your job." When I saw that it took 10 people to fill in for one mom (me), it made me feel pretty good. There is a lot that goes on unseen and isn't always appreciated, but now I see how much value is in it and how much would go undone if I didn't do it.

5. I really really enjoy writing.

I've always enjoyed blogging, and I've kept a journal pretty much my whole life. But I never thought I had anything important to say publicly. This year blogging and journaling became such a necessary outlet for me that I realized how much I really enjoy writing. I hope this can be a starting point for something more. Whatever that may look like, I know that I want to write more and make time for it in my life.

4. No one is immune to suffering.

I used to think that because x, y, z happened to me, then nothing else would. And since I did x, y, z, then my life wouldn't necessarily be perfect, but it would probably be free of major heartache and difficulty. HA! That's hilarious and so stupid and illogical. But I admit, deep down, it's what I thought. The suffering I have experienced in my life is a teeny tiny blip on the radar compared to a lot of people, and I know that. But I used to think that since my parents divorced when I was young and I had miscarriages and didn't have a perfect life, then I was immune to something major. I thought I already experienced my "something major" so I'm good now. Unfortunately, the world doesn't keep tabs on what's happened to you in the past, and life is hard sometimes. It might be easy for a while, and I pray it is, but just because I've had cancer now doesn't mean the rest of my life will be a cakewalk. Although I'll certainly take it if it is.

3. I have rockstar friends.

I mean, its ridiculous you guys. I can't even explain. I tried to, in that one post, but that wasn't even the tip of the iceberg. There were so many people I didn't mention who gave selflessly of themselves, of their time, money, and resources just for our little family. It's so humbling. And my closest friends are the best ones there are. Like, seriously. I feel sorry for you that they are my friends and not your friends because they really are the best. But not that sorry because they're mine.

2. I have a rockstar husband.

I already knew he was a gem. But this past year proved it even more. He officially upped his status to rockstar. All of the unseen things that he did for me and for our family, without appreciation, and most of the time with me whining/crying about something. He was such a faithful servant to all of us and I hope I can spend the rest of my life making it up to him.

1. God is always faithful, and He can be trusted.

This was a hard lesson to learn. Because of COURSE God is faithful, but as I wrote about in another post, just because I trust him, doesn't mean I'm going to get what I want. And that's a hard thing to accept. I'll be honest, this is something I am still working out with my Heavenly Father and something that continues to be woven into my everyday battle. Trusting in Him, relinquishing my plans, submitting to His. And while this past year certainly gave me a shove in the right direction, unclenching my hands to His will for my life has to be done every single morning.

Looking forward to 2016 and all the learning and living and loving He has planned.

"Surely then you will lift up your face without blemish; you will be secure and will not fear. You will forget your misery; you will remember it as waters that have passed away. And your life will be brighter than the noonday; its darkness will be like the morning. And you will feel secure, because there is hope; you will look around and take your rest in security." - Job 11:15-18

One Word for 2016

As most of you know, I'm not one to make resolutions. I don't like setting myself up for failure. Also I think it's cliche and I like to believe I'm too cool to jump on that bandwagon. But really it's just laziness and my pride that hold me back. 

So instead of a list of all the things I want to do and be this year (although I certainly have some goals in mind) I've been focusing on a word. A word that can sum up my actions and goals and allow me to hone in on what must be done vs. what can wait for another season. So get ready.....my word for 2016 is:

HEALING.

Obviously, physical healing from everything my body has been through. I'm still very fatigued from the chemo and radiation, but I also had a very major surgery and am having another one in the next month or so, and it's important for me to focus on what my body is telling me. If I'm tired, then I need to rest. Which means I'll have to let some other things go. But if my focus is on healing, then I can be confident that resting is more important than whatever is on my to do list. Also, that means I need to take care of my body, exercise and eat well. I'm not going to be legalistic about it, but I am going to make an effort to give my body all the things it needs to function at its best.

We are all pretty scarred emotionally from this past year. Our family needs healing. The girls need special one on one time with me to make up for all the time we lost. Mark and I need to prioritize dates so our relationship can heal. (Not that it's broken, but what we went through can leave some pretty serious scars). Healing together as a family will be a big priority for me this year, and doing whatever it takes to make us feel whole and healthy and together are things that will take center stage. 

I love my little family so much.

I also have some healing to do spiritually and individually. With my own thoughts, but also with the conversations that happen with my Heavenly Father. The mending that needs to be done cannot be done by me. But I feel I also have the responsibility to take my thoughts captive, to spend time reading truth, to memorize and repeat scripture, and to continue to pour my heart out to Jesus on a daily basis. That's all on me. Thankfully, Jesus fills in the gaps and can mend what has been broken as only He can do. 

"You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy"

Psalm 30:11

Picking one word for 2016 allows me to target what is important and drown out the noise of what is not. In other seasons, healing will not be a priority for me, but I feel like the Lord has spoken this word to me for this year and I'm clinging to it. I'm recognizing the season that I'm in, and instead of wishing for the next season and wanting more and waiting for the future, I'm going to accept where I am now, enjoy it, embrace it, and give thanks for it.

In order for me to really focus on Healing, there is a word I need to reject this year. This word will not allow me to heal, and therefore will have no place in my life in 2016:

Fear.

I will trust. I will heal. I will not fear.

And that's all the talk that word deserves.

The understatement of the century would be to call 2015 a difficult year. I could focus on all the things I lost in 2015, but that would just bring hurt instead of healing. Honestly, this year was a blur. I was barely coming out of the new baby/four kids/life is crazy fog when I was diagnosed. And then my whole day to day life became about cancer. When I look back, this will always be the "cancer year". Because there isn't really another way to describe it. But what I experienced this year is so much more than that. There were so many blessings and so much good out of this trial. But it's a relief to have 2015 over. I'm so ready to move on and put this behind me. I don't want it to define me. I want to be about more than just cancer. I want this to be a hurdle I had to overcome, not the definition of who I am.

I'm ready for you 2016. Bring on the healing. Cast out all fear.

Thank You

It takes a village to raise a child....but it also takes a village to survive cancer. 

Especially when you have a husband, a house, and four kids to take care of (oh and a dog).

This post has taken me a while to put together because a) I wasn't quite sure how to go about thanking the hundreds of people that pulled us through cancer treatment, b) I didn't want anyone to get their feelings hurt if I forgot to mention them, and c) I'm just now getting out of the fog and realizing that this would not have been possible without these people.

You may not know these people, but I'm going to mention them by name anyway. Because they deserve the credit, and also because we can all draw inspiration from them the next time we know someone who is hurting or needs our help.

My family.
My mom - who babysat countless times, who brought us dinner/groceries/diapers, but was often the one who drove me to and from chemo and sat with me in the infusion room for 7 hours. She took me to more doctor's appointments than anyone else, apart from maybe Mark. Her presence and support of ME, individually, during this time, is proof alone of how strong a mother's love is.

My dad and my Mimi - for bringing countless lunches, groceries, and dinners....and for being my primary babysitters during radiation. For constantly being present week after week at my house. For advocating for me and knowing what I needed when I was too prideful or sick to ask. For driving me to doctor appointments and talking to me to distract me while I got poked and prodded and stuck.

My mother in law and father in law - without these two people, who knows what would have happened to my kids. It is only because of them that my girls were loved, cared for, and came out of this whole thing with very little damage. I never once worried about my girls while they were with my in-laws. They kept the girls more than everyone else combined, and for that, I am forever grateful.

My stepmom - who was an advocate for my medical care and provided me with resources and a VIP status at Northside Hospital. Without her presence and knowledge at Northside, I wouldn't have gotten the amazing doctors and medical care that I did. She also worked every Saturday so that she could take off work on Thursdays and come take care of the girls. She also provided me with my rockin' wig....who has still yet to be named.

My sister in laws - one from afar, and one from close by. Meredith babysat and provided meals for us all while working full time and taking care of her own family. Molly sent care packages and gift cards for meals, also while working full time and taking care of her own family. They also both texted me constantly to check in and send me bible verses or encouragement or tell me they were praying for me.

My aunts - my Aunt Traci constantly took care of my kids and also brought us many meals. My Aunt Gayle gave me more gifts and gift cards than I can count. Thanks to her I always had a book to read and a cute bag to put it in.

My friends.
Libby - she was my care coordinator. Libby knew what I needed and had it taken care of before I even knew that I needed it. She coordinated child care, meals, groceries, laundry, and cleaning services (graciously provided for financially by Leslie and her mom). Libby also entertained my kids, cleaned my house herself, and drew me up out of my depression pit when I was wallowing in self-pity. She was the first of my friends to say "we are not going to let you die." And there is no thank you big enough for that.

Two of my very dearest friends, Denby and Katie - these two beautiful women cleaned my house, took care of my kids, brought me gifts, cheered me up, brought us entire loads of groceries, folded our laundry, and cooked us meals. It should also be mentioned that they each have 4 kids of their own, and I'm honestly not sure how they managed to take care of me so well while also taking care of their own families.

Three more very dear friends, Claire, Kim, and Kacy - these three women also watched my children, brought me countless meals and groceries, and ALL saw me bald and at my worst. Their greatest gift to me during this time was their presence. All three were at my house often, lifting my spirits and serving me.

My milk suppliers, Emily and Denise - These two supplied me with a freezer full of breastmilk for Cora. (That's right, I fed my baby someone else's breastmilk. And when you go through chemo and have to abruptly stop breastfeeding your 7 month old, then you can start judging me. Otherwise keep your opinions to yourself.) I didn't know that I needed breastmilk for Cora. It wasn't something that I even thought about. But the Lord knew, and He put it on both of these ladies' hearts long before I needed it. Not having to worry about what Cora was going to eat was an amazing relief for me. Denise showed up at my house multiple times during my treatment with coolers full of frozen milk. Emily practically coordinated a drug deal by shipping me milk several times. Because of them, Cora was almost 11 months old before she ever had a drop of formula (again.....nothing against formula....no judgement....this is just what the Lord knew we needed during this time).

My small group and church.
For all of the prayers, for accepting us as we came in our mess and our wide-eyed looks of bewilderment and exhaustion, for not judging us or expecting anything from us, for constantly pouring into us without getting anything in return. For not recording our attendance or non-attendance, and for not mentioning my wig/scarf/hat/bald head or whatever apparatus I chose that day to hide my baldness.

For Tim and Malorie specifically, who set up our Go Fund Me account, without which we would not have been able to pay for my first chemo treatment and the many medical bills that piled on after (and continue to pile on). Malorie also coordinated our meal schedule website and made sure people knew when/if we needed meals.

Everyone at Mom 2 Mom.
I received many care packages, meals, cards, and gift cards, often from women I had never met or only met a few times. Mom 2 mom was a great community for me during this time and I will forever be grateful to this group of women who prayed for me and cared for me.

Everyone who gave us money, brought us a meal, sent us a card, and prayed for us.
Seriously there are too many people to count....many other dear friends and family members brought us multiple meals, babysat, sent cards/flowers/gift cards, cleaned our house, did yard work, and helped us get through this time in a million different ways. I can't tell you how many times a complete stranger walked up to me and said "I'm praying for you". You all provided us financial, emotional, spiritual, and physical support. I literally could NOT have gotten through chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation without all of you. I am so humbled and honored.

I also want you to know that if you sent us money, a gift, or a gift card, I tried my hardest to mail out thank you notes, but I know that I missed a LOT. So please forgive me if you did not receive a thank you note. Please know that your gift was greatly appreciated and used, and that it was only because the sickness fog outweighed my Southern manners that you did not receive a note.

And because I can't write a thank you post without mentioning my amazing husband, Mark. He was at the core of everything. He was both mom and dad on the good days, and on the bad days he was mom and dad and caretaker. We both joked several times that it was good that I got cancer instead of him because I would not be able to handle all of the different things that he had to do. He had to juggle a full time job, a very sick wife, and four girls needing/wanting attention. Not to mention heating/serving the meals that people brought, coordinating babysitting, keeping our house livable (because that's his standard), and talking me down off the ledge. He was my greatest earthly supporter through this. If he never does another nice thing for me for the rest of our marriage, I still owe him big time.

The Lord has taught me many things during this trial, but I think watching the church/community come together to care for us will be the thing that continues to stand out in my mind forever. It was amazing to watch, and even more amazing to be the recipient of. I'm really bad at asking for help. Mainly because I'm a control freak and like to do things myself. But also because I'm a control freak and like to do things myself. It's worth mentioning twice. Oh yeah, and that little thing called pride. I now see that I cannot do this thing alone. Not just cancer....but raising a family, being a wife, being who God called me to be...we were not meant to do things alone, but in community and in service to one another.

This community has taught me how to serve someone when they are sick, how to give when someone needs it, and that every little thing matters, even if you don't think that it does. If you think, "it really doesn't matter if I bring her this bag of muffins or not...she won't care", that is Satan whispering his lies in your ear. Because every single act of service points to Jesus, and every single gift and act made me feel loved.

So THANK YOU. I'm forever in your debt.

Friendship is one of the sweetest joys of life. Many might have failed beneath the bitterness of their trial had they not found a friend. - Charles Spurgeon

Let's Get Radiated

I am halfway through radiation, 3 weeks down and 3 weeks to go. Radiation is 5 days a week, so it has quickly become a "normal" and routine part of my day. Before radiation, I stressed about how I would get childcare for the girls every single day for 6 weeks but it has actually worked out quite easily. I am usually the last appointment for the day, so the girls' day isn't interrupted and half the time they don't even know I'm gone since they are usually napping during this time of day. Precious friends have offered to take a day or two a week, and then family has filled in the gaps. Thankfully, radiation has been pretty easy so far.

Although my chemotherapy treatment was very effective, and the small amount of my tumor that remained was taken out during surgery, my surgeon and two oncologists agreed that I should undergo radiation treatment. Mainly because the cancer had spread to my skin, but also because the size of my tumor initially was so large. There are a lot of risks associated with all of my cancer treatment, and radiation is no different. A second form of cancer is a risk with radiation, and I am at higher risk for this since I am so young and my cells are more susceptible to damage.

I haven't blogged in a while because I haven't been sure what to say. I would like to say that I am feeling better and healthy and my fears are gone. But I'm not and they are not. I'm tired ALL the time, my hormones are completely out of wack, my immune system sucks, and all I do is worry about the future and whether the cancer will come back or not. Instead of blogging the truth, I've remained silent. Because no one wants to hear how hard this is and that I burst into tears far too often.

But, among the many things I have learned on this journey, speaking what I really feel is always the best option. I shouldn't hide my concerns and my fears, I should voice them. Because when I voice them, then dear friends and family can come behind me and say, "No, that is not the Lord's plan for you. You are healed" or, "You will be rewarded for this" or "This is not in vain". When my fears are out in the open, they don't seem so scary anymore. They no longer have power over me.

I have seen the Lord's goodness and faithfulness every day, and yet still I doubt His sovereignty and His plan for me. Because I don't know that His plan is for me to live. I don't know the way that I will die, and cancer could very well be the cause. I know His plan for me is good.....but that does not mean I am spared a death from cancer. And honestly, that has been my biggest struggle through all of this. That even though His plan is good, it is not free of pain and heartache. Yes, in the end, it will all be redeemed. And through our pain and suffering, He gets the glory. But why does someone have to have cancer for Him to get glory? This is my daily struggle with Him. I will continue to point to Him through this, and I see blessings and good coming from it every day, but I still don't understand it, and I admit that I probably never will.

"I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind." 

Genesis 9:13-15

This was the covenant between the Lord and Noah, when He promised never to destroy the earth again through a flood. The rainbow served as a reminder, a reassurance, a promise....that whenever the rain started to fall, it would not end with destruction. The rain would stop eventually.

I have been asking the Lord for my rainbow. For a sign from Him, a reassurance, an encouragement, a promise, that I have no reason to fear. That this flood I am in will not destroy me.

On Mastectomies and Healing

I am almost two weeks post-op from my bilateral mastectomy and axillary dissection.

When Mark and I went in to find out my biopsy results back in March, the first thing the doctor said to me was that I had breast cancer. The second thing she said was, "I'm not going to be able to save your breast". I have been dreading surgery ever since that moment. I knew from the beginning that a lumpectomy was not an option, and pretty early on I knew that I would lose not just one breast but both. I'm not afraid of surgery or pain. I had c sections with all of my babies, and I've been told I have a high pain tolerance. I definitely don't enjoy those things but they don't scare me as much as they should. But I have been dreading this surgery since day one. I was SO relieved to be finished with chemo after my last treatment in June....but I knew that the end of chemo meant the count down to surgery was inching closer and closer.

A lot of people ask me what it was like to lose my hair. If I was emotional the first time my husband saw me bald. Honestly, losing my hair wasn't a big deal for me. I didn't love my hair to begin with, and once it started falling out my head was so sore and tender that it was a relief to shave it. Being bald was annoying, don't get me wrong. I had to cover my head when people came over and constantly having a scarf or a wig on was a pain, especially in the summer heat. But most of the time around the house, I was bald. Mark and the kids aren't phased at my baldness...it's just how they see me now. It's normal. I can't wait for my hair to grow back. But losing it wasn't emotional. It was inconvenient.

Losing my breasts, however, was emotional. It was harder than I expected it to be. The surgery was what I expected, and the pain was too. But as a woman...as a wife and a mother...it hurt. A different kind of pain than I have ever experienced before. I'm not a very sentimental person usually, but it's getting harder and harder for me to look in the mirror and hold back the tears.

Fortunately, the first phase of my reconstruction was done at the same time as my mastectomy, and that really has made the emotional part of this much easier. They used tissue and skin from my stomach to begin reconstructing new breasts, so when I woke up from surgery I wasn't completely flat. That doesn't mean that what I saw resembled anything to what used to be there...and without getting into some details that some of you may not want to hear, let's just say...it's not like getting a "boob-job". It's different. They had to take a lot of my skin. I have a lot of scars and incisions. All of this will heal, I know, and I'll look much better after the second phase of my reconstruction, but that probably won't be until next Spring.

Things are different now. I look different, I feel different, and while I'm recovering from surgery, I can't lift, hold, or take care of the kids. Since I had lymph nodes removed along with the mastectomy, I'm not allowed to lift my arms above my shoulder, or lift anything more than 5 pounds. These are standard precautions to prevent clotting, lymphedema, and further complications. But try explaining that to a 2 year old and 11 month old. Not holding Cora has been torture. Not lifting Stella up when she wants a snuggle has ripped my heart apart. But I know I have to do what must be done in order for me to heal.

I'm more thankful than ever for our beach trip we took before surgery. I held Cora as much as I could. I let her fall asleep on my chest and we all cherished the time together. I didn't realize how difficult recovery would be, which makes the time before surgery all the more special.

After our beach trip, we immediately began preparing ourselves mentally and physically for surgery. Surgery would tell us a lot about my future prognosis, and depending on my pathology report from what they harvested during surgery, we would know if they removed all of the cancer or not. We knew that my chemotherapy treatment was effective. I had an ultrasound in the middle of treatment that showed my tumor had shrunk significantly. But we didn't really know how much it shrunk and what the chemo's effect on my lymph nodes or the rest of my body was. 

While I was very confident and prayed big that I would be completely healed, honestly we didn't know what to expect. We knew what we wanted and we knew what we were praying for and we knew that I was in good hands. But ultimately we knew that God's will would be done and He would work it for good, no matter what it was. Exactly a week ago today, my surgeon called me with my pathology report. No cancer in my lymph nodes, no cancer in my skin, and an amount of cancer in my breast tissue so small that it was "immeasurable". They couldn't even give it a size because it was so small! All three of those places originally were positive for cancer. My tumor was so large it took up about half of my left breast. And now, after 6 rounds of chemo, and the miraculous healing hand of our great God, I am cancer free. The super tiny amount of cancer that was left in my breast was removed during the mastectomy (obviously) and the rest of my body is clear.

"But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love, to deliver them from death and keep them alive in famine. We wait in hope for the Lord; he is our help and our shield. In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name." Psalm 33:18-21

"He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking, and jumping, and praising God." Acts 3:8

"I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me. " Psalm 13:6

"Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you." Psalm 63:3

It took a day or so for that information to sink in. He called me on a Monday late afternoon, and on Tuesday morning I woke up crying and didn't stop crying all day. Tears washed over me in relief, joy and thanksgiving. Tears flowing from months of pain, fear, and despair. Now all redeemed in this moment. I knew immediately after my diagnosis that the Lord wanted me to walk through chemo. So that's what I did. I went through chemo because He ASKED me to, not because He NEEDED me to. He can heal me with a whisper. And I believe He did. I have learned more about my Heavenly Father, my community, my faith and my family in the past 4 months than I have in my entire life. Cancer has changed me in every aspect of my life. What the enemy intended for evil, He turned into good. 

I still have a long road. I have to heal from surgery, begin radiation, and then have the second phase of my reconstruction done next year. I also have to have my ovaries removed in the next year or so. I believe I am 100% completely and wholly healed. But fighting and defeating cancer is a long process, and continues long after the cancer is gone.

For now, I am sneaking in snuggles when I can, loading up with pillows so that the kids can sit with me. They are cared for and loved during the day, but we are all struggling and ready for mama to be back on her feet running the household again. I miss my girls. I miss my husband. I miss my former self. I still miss my eyebrows.

But praise God that the worst is over, and the best is yet to come. Praise God that my story is one of healing and recovery. Praise God that He chose to use our family in this way. Praise God that we are stronger, more united, and more thankful than ever.

Please continue to pray for us. Pray for the girls, that they aren't too damaged by the lack of contact with their mama. Pray for Mark and I to connect and strengthen our marriage after so much pain and suffering. Pray for quick healing and recovery and for no complications from surgery. Pray for provision. Pray that someone hears my story and comes to know Jesus because of it. Pray that we all cling closer to our Savior, in good times and in bad.

Chemotherapy Complete!

I had my last EVER chemo treatment on Tuesday. Six rounds of intense chemotherapy, and my body is shot.

Everyone keeps telling me, nurses, doctors, and other patients, say that the drug regimen I am on is one of the most difficult. Physically and mentally I really struggled each round. After a few days in bed after each treatment I would get depressed, missing my life and missing the girls...feeling guilty that Mark and everyone else were doing so much and carrying me through this. A few days after treatment I get an injection to make my bone marrow boost blood cell production. After that shot I get body aches, a fever, and generally feel like I have the worst case of the flu that exists. About a week after treatment, the fog lifts a little and I am able to atleast come downstairs and be present, maybe even read the girls a few books or play on the couch some. Sometimes there were set backs and I would have a rough day again, but usually after days 8 or 9, I progressively improve and am able to be up and around more. Then by day 10, I get my blood counts checked to make sure my white count is high enough that I don't have to be as crazy about germs and isolation....and then usually its uphill from there. The stomach issues, fatigue, and body aches are constant....even all the way up to the next chemo treatment. But they are manageable after about day 10 and really just more annoying than debilitating. Other side effects that I've just come to know as my new "normal" are hot flashes, dry mouth and skin, and fatigue fatigue fatigue. Can't say enough about that one.

HOWEVER........with my last chemo treatment finished, I can now hope that all of these side effects, the pattern of my sickness and the hard days in bed....I can hope that they are over. I know some side effects from chemo stay with you for life. Especially the fatigue and achiness. But some people say they improve over time. I'll take it.

Knowing that I never have to feel that way again, is a huge victory. I've been really depressed and anxious lately about the surgery and if my lymph nodes are clear and if the cancer will come back and my prognosis and just everything cancer related.....but really....I just made it through six rounds of chemotherapy with NO delays, and really no complications other than side effects. My blood counts always rose, my kidneys and my liver handled everything well....and finishing chemo should be celebrated. I've allowed Satan to take my joy and fill me with fear and anxiety, but really I should be celebrating. It's a big deal. We've made it this far.

Chemo was the thing I was most afraid of, and the thing I knew the Lord was asking me to walk through, and I did it. Well....correction.....Mark, my mom, his mom, our entire family, friends, our church, and the Lord, THEY did it. They shoved me into each treatment and then pulled me out, patted me and took care of me and loved me until it was time to do it again. I was just a rag doll. An angry, moody, sick, opinionated and bald rag doll.

Let's just relish in the moment, and take in the victory....I went through chemo, my body responded well to it, and it's done! WOOO HOOO!!!!! Praise Jesus Hallelujah and all the Amens.

I felt like I needed to get that out. When you celebrate the little victories, it's harder to focus on the fear.

Side note: since my cancer is HER2+, I have to get one of the drugs infused for an entire year, still on the every 3 week schedule like chemo. This drug doesn't (apparently) carry any side effects when it's given alone, apart from the other meds, but I do still have to keep my port until I'm finished with that drug, which will be next March. So technically, I have to go sit in the chemo chair and get my port accessed and all that mess every 3 weeks, but the Herceptin only takes about 30 minutes to infuse so it's no biggie....and no side effects, so YAY! This could be another small joy-killer since people who are HER2- don't have to do this....but I'm counting it as a victory. Another year of this drug going through my veins keeping the cancer at bay.

Ok...next on the Suck It Cancer Agenda: SURGERY!!!! And then Radiation.
The surgery is a big deal for several reasons. First, because it will truly show how effective the chemotherapy was in killing the cancer. After surgery we will know if my margins are clear, and if any of my lymph nodes contain cancer. Second, it's a big deal because it reduces my chances of recurrence. I only have cancer in one breast, but, from the advice of two surgeons and my oncologist, I will be having a double mastectomy. I'm only 31, I have a lot of years to live Lord willing, and taking both breasts is the most aggressive way to treat and prevent this demon from returning. Lastly, surgery is a big deal because, well, it's surgery. I've heard recovery is really rough, and I'm expecting it to be hard. I'll spend several days in the hospital, go home with several drain tubes and be on very limited restrictions for atleast a few weeks. Then I can start lifting and light activity after 6 weeks. I'm hoping I will recover faster than that, because we all like to think we're the exception, not the rule....but honestly I expect it will be really difficult. More help with kids, more resting, and more relying on everyone else to do all the things that I'm supposed to be doing.

That being said, I've lost all shame on this journey. I've learned now that we DO need help. And I've learned that I have to ASK for the specific help I need. I have four kids. Two of which still sleep in cribs. I won't be able to lift them into and out of their cribs for....well I'm assuming several weeks. Also, have you ever been around a baby that sees her mama but can't be HELD by that mama? It's not a fun situation. We could really use your prayers and also your physical hands during this time. The grandparents will be doing most of the childcare, and a precious friend of the family is cleaning our house (Thank you Tammy!!! If you know her then lavish her with gifts). The areas we could really still use some help is with meals and groceries. If you are local and can bring us a meal, that would be uuuuhhhhhmazing. I love cooking and miss it so much, but after surgery it's going to be awhile before I can. And there are 6 mouths to feed around here. We have a website where you can sign up to bring a meal, and I have no shame in posting it here. Pass it along. If you aren't local, or if cooking isn't your thing, or if you don't want to bring a meal, we would also love grocery store gift cards or restaurant gift cards for takeout.

We have had SO many dinners delivered to us during the past few months, and I wish I could portray in words what a blessing it has been to us. I haven't been physically able to cook. I know it seems like "bringing dinner" is so the cliche thing we southerners do when something happens....someone has a baby, someone dies, someone gets hurt or sick, someones gets a job or loses a job....you bring food. That's because food is always needed. Food heals. Food brings people together. If you have already brought us a meal, please don't feel obligated to do it again. I am SO grateful and I hope that one day I can bring a meal to you too. But if you do feel led to bring us some food, here's the link to the website to sign up

http://www.takethemameal.com/meals.php?t=BIKB1454

I have been so blessed by all of you. By your cards, packages in the mail, donations, and meals. It really is like getting water in a desert land. You guys are filling me up when I'm dry and empty. The encouraging texts and calls mean so much. I have been blown away by our community coming together during this time. I know there are so many people in need, and I'm humbled that you have chosen me to pray for and to lift up and bless.

Wrestling

This is basically going to be one big long pity party of a post. Physically, it was a really good week for me. But emotionally, it has been one of the worst. Mark and I have both hit a brick wall. The weight of all this is catching up to us and wearing us both down. I am snapping at the kids, and we are snapping at each other. We have no one else to snap at. I feel a little forgotten. The help isn't flowing in as freely as it once was, the money has stopped, and the blessings are hard to see right now. We are still getting meals every week, which is a bigger help than I think anyone will ever realize...but I still feel really alone. Things aren't clicking into place anymore. All I can see are the obstacles, the pain, the longevity of this never-ending journey. The life that this cancer took from me. A healthy, carefree life that I will never have back.

"So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." 

2 Corinthians 4:16-18

I know all the things I'm supposed to believe. I know all the things I'm supposed to think about. But I want the seen things. I want the earthly. I want prosperity and blessing and comfort. I want to stop feeling like a target for all the bad things. Some people seem to coast through life and get everything handed to them, and I feel like we are limping, barely making it through each day. We struggle to pay the bills, we fight back the anger while trying to deal with the girls at the end of the hard day, we bicker and stress, we fear the future. I want to sleep constantly and I know Mark just wants me to cool it on the crazy. I so badly want to handle this with grace, but its becoming too much. My family deserves so much better. They deserve a mom who can stay awake in the afternoons and play with them. Who doesn't snap on them because she is so tired and moody ALL. THE. TIME. Mark deserves to not be so stressed all the time. He deserves a healthy and beautiful wife who doesn't need him so much. I can see how I'm scraping him dry and it kills me. This is all word vomit but I just want to be real and honest in the struggle.

I'm tired of over spiritualizing it. I know God is sovereign, I know He is in control, but that doesn't mean that this doesn't suck. I have been wrestling with God this week with my conflicting emotions. I am so grateful that I have a cancer that can be treated. But I am so angry that cancer is the card I was dealt. I am so thankful that this life isn't the end for me, that no matter WHAT I have the hope of Heaven. But I am so angry that I find myself longing for Heaven and wanting to leave this life behind because it is full of nothing but heartache and struggle. How can I be so angry and grateful at the same time? How can I have complete faith that the Lord will heal me, and still an overwhelming peace if He doesn't? I'm too human, too selfish. I am but dust....and He KNOWS that. He knows I am dust. Tired, Angry, Selfish dust. And yet the cards keep flying, and I can't help but feel like we are being punished. I can handle the sickness. But I can't handle my family being under attack like this. Yes I'm the patient, but everyone around me suffers just as much as I do. I know life isn't fair, and that we have more blessings in our life than some people dream of. I KNOW all these things. But all I FEEL is anger and resentment and grief.

I want to do better. I want to handle this better. But all I can seem to do lately is cry and pray and sleep and get more angry. If this post seems bipolar, that's because it is. I really am grateful beyond words for all the help and all the prayer. That it's JUST BREAST CANCER and not something else. But I'm so angry at the suffering and the grief and the pain of this world. That everyone has to deal with something, and right now, this is our something.

We need prayer. Obviously. We may also need counseling when all this is over. I will need it because I think I will be gripped with fear for the rest of my life. My family will need it because I am driving them absolutely insane with my mood swings and my constantly pulling the "cancer card". Clearly I will need to write multiple letters of apology for everything I have done/said/typed during this period.

Things you can pray for today and this week:
- There is a mechanical situation with Mark's car...to fix it would cost more than we paid for the car and more than the car is worth. It seems trivial to ask for prayer about a stupid car, but it's a big source of stress for us right now. We are aware it's just a car. But throw us a freaking bone right now and just pray about it.
- I'm trying to find a plastic surgeon that will take our insurance and it's proving difficult. I can't just use any plastic surgeon, but need one that specializes in reconstruction after a mastectomy. This is not your average boob job.
- Chemo is next week, and all the things that come with another chemo treatment will hit us like a ton of bricks. Pray for provision for cleaning/food/child care, strength for Mark as he tries to work and care for me, that side effects are minimal for me and that my body bounces back after all of this.
- Pray that we give each other grace. That Mark and I give each other grace, that the girls give me grace, that they don't remember all the ways I have failed them during this time, that they only remember the good.
- Pray for our momentum to return. For my desire to fight to return.
- Pray for healing. That when it comes time for the surgery, the cancer would be gone.

Thank you for praying. Thank you for not judging me too harshly for all the word vomit. Thank you for all the meals.

I know God is in this. It's just hard to see right now. I'm blinded by all the bad and I easily forget all the good.

On Sunday at church, something happened that I don't think has ever happened in the history of our church. The sermon was on valleys, what to do in the valley and what God is doing in the valleys. At the end, He had people who were going through valleys stand, and if you saw someone stand then you were to go and put your hand on them and pray out loud over them. I reluctantly stood. And people flocked and put their hands on me and Mark and prayed out loud over us. It was the most beautiful and humbling thing. The only other time someone has put their hands on me and prayed over me is right after my second miscarriage. We were heartbroken and angry, and our small group put me and two other dear friends dealing with infertility in the middle of a circle, put their hands on us and prayed out loud over us.

We all three had healthy babies the next year. One even had a set of twins. (for us, sweet Annie Faith was born from that prayer)

Prayer works, friends. I know our God listens to our cries. Even when they are angry cries that are muffled by tears and hurt. Thank you for crying out on my behalf.