I
learned a long time ago about the power which comes from putting words
to your emotions. Left unsaid, fears and frustrations can become a toxic
force. Lately I have been guilty of not taking my own advice because
I've been struggling, and I have been hesitant to share. Instead of
openly acknowledging the situation and the fears, I have been trying to
put on a stoic face. Needless to say, this approach has not been
working. It's time I start being honest with others and with myself.
I
have openly written about my experiences as a cancer survivor. I try
not to dwell on my cancer experience; in truth I would rather erase
those memories all together. I suppose my avoidance is partly out of
fear of a recurrence but primarily because I don't want to be the
recipient of the "poor thing" look which is often bestowed upon
survivors. I detest being viewed as weak!
Although
my status as survivor does not define my life, the experience has
certainly had a profound impact on who I am today. I often refer to
Robby as my little miracle because, had I listened to the experts, he
would not be here. I was told that although I had the heart and soul of a
Mom, my body could not make that dream a reality. I never expected to
receive yet another miracle which is why we were shocked and overjoyed
when I learned that I was expecting again.
Just
when I began to digest the news that I was going to be a Mom again at
40, our miracle was overshadowed by a devastating report. The cancer
which I have fought against and have feared for a decade, has returned. I
am officially considered a pregnant cancer patient. To be more
specific, my medical record touts me as an amputee, pregnant cancer
patient with advanced maternal age and active pituitary cluster tumors.
I have grown weary of labels and would much prefer to be called Peggy.
I
have taken solace in the the experts' assurances that I will be okay.
Approximately six weeks after the baby is born, I will undergo surgery
to remove my uterus, including any (and hopefully all) malignancies. We
are hoping that no further treatment will be needed, but we won't have a
guarantee until after the baby is born. I am being monitored closely,
but there is nothing else to be done at this time.
As
if the cancer diagnosis wasn't devastating enough, I learned that the
pituitary clusters which had gone dormant, have now fully ripened. A few
weeks after my uterus is removed, I will again be in the operating room
to remove the clusters. Thankfully we know that these little tumors are
benign! I do have to admit that the prospect of neurological surgery, a
few weeks after gynecological surgery, which will happen a few weeks
after I give birth, has rendered me both scared and overwhelmed.
I'm
hoping for the best, but my mind is spinning with worst case scenario
preparations. I wish that I could just enjoy the pregnancy with my only
worries revolving around integrating a newborn into our family dynamic.
At times I feel such paralyzing fear that I can't move. I want to run
away and hide, but I know all too well that this is not something that
evasion will fix. I look at Robby or I feel the baby kick, and I know
that somehow I will figure out a way to cope. After all I have to--I'm a
Mom and Moms don't have the luxury of hiding.
We
have tried to deal with this diagnosis internally. Other than family
and a few close friends, I haven't spoken openly about the newest
battles. I suppose I just wasn't ready to face it, or maybe I just
didn't think I had the strength to cope. I have come to realize that
this isn't news that I can deal with privately. I am not SuperWoman, and
I don't have the strength to pretend that everything is okay.
Much
of my hesitancy in writing about the diagnosis lies in fearing the
reactions from others. I don't want to be cast as living in a shadow of
despair. I detest pity and cannot bear to be viewed as pathetic. I need
others to help me focus on the true blessing of this situation;I am
about to be a Mom again and for that I could not be happier!
More
than anything, I just want to enjoy this pregnancy and feel the rush of
anticipation and excitement as the delivery approaches. Instead, I have
felt guilt because I am afraid of what will happen after the baby is
born. As long as my little miracle is inside me, I know that I can avoid
reality. Delivery will mark the beginning of a medical journey which I
am dreading. Sometimes I think that we are both safer as long as I'm
pregnant.
With time, I know that these
experiences will simply become memories. The latest medical blips will
be added to the list of obstacles which I have overcome. I don't know
how, but I do know that we will figure a way through this situation.
In
the meantime, I am sure I will continue to struggle with a roller
coaster of emotions as I come to terms with what lies ahead. I'm scared,
and I've never dealt with that emotion gracefully. I'm hoping that I
will be able to draw strength from going public and being true to my
feelings. At this point, I figured it can't hurt to be honest!