Saturday, September 15, 2007


Perhaps the most difficult part of this entire ordeal is the disappointment. Everyone grows up with expectations: for jobs, family, vacation, possessions, fun, education, etc. Everyone deals with disappointment. I'm not saying that I'm different or exceptional in my feelings. I'm only saying that this has turned out to be one of the hardest things for me to deal with.

A year ago I didn't know what my family would look like in ten years. Quite honestly, I'm not entirely sure right now, but I no longer have the luxury of just waiting to see. This is disappointing to me.

There's a sudden urgency to decide if we want any more children. Well, I feel an urgency. Jamie, he's pretty placid. And I mean that well. He's not disappointed. That's a good thing because then I'd have to deal with disappointing his desires for a large family, or just one that's a little bigger. Thankfully, though, I don't have to deal with that.

I'm dealing with my disappointment. The cost is paid for me, physically, with many tears and loss of sleep. My muscles ache. My heart aches. I hurt.

In addition to disappointment is other people's dismissive ways of dealing with things. I know people mean well when they say things like, "At least you have two beautiful daughters." Or, "Some women with ovarian cancer don't have any children. Be thankful." Or, "You can always adopt." Or, "At least you'll be done raising children when you're still young." I know people mean well. But, People, it's still a loss. For me it's a loss. I am grieving what childbearing whimsy I once had. I am grieving the idea of more children. I am grieving the idea of a possible son.

These things may still happen. But they could happen with much risk to my current family. And if they do happen they must happen quickly. And I am exhausted. I am exhausted and that's why I couldn't decide right now what to do. I needed some space. I needed some mental health. I needed to cry and mentally troubleshoot what I want to do. I had this luxury--again, with much controversy--because my cancer was found so soon. I will not squander this chance to make a clear-headed decision.

But I just had to write this all down. I had to write because I am tired of crying. I'm hot and bothered and overwhelmed with life right now. And this is how I work. I do things intensely and get on with life. I don't want years of grief and disappointment--I don't want any, who does. But if I must feel this to move on, I want to feel it and move on. I want to enjoy year three with Stella, because year two has been a bummer. I want to enjoy year one with Gianna because it might be the last year one I enjoy with any of my own.

I am more than grateful for Stella and Gianna. And I am lucky. I am blessed. I know all this to be true.

This says a lot. Because I don't enjoy pregnancy. I don't do pregnant well. But the end result is absolutely worth it. There's a new person to meet. A new person that's a little mixture of yourself and (hopefully) your favorite other person. And instead of looking at it as greedy, I want to look at it as generous. Generous to want to bring someone into this world because for all its disappointments, it's a very good world in which to be.


faithsalutes said...

Make me cry why don't you. The best part of my week was delivering eggs to the con cuidados casa and getting that high five from stella and smelling giana and seeing you smile. wake me up anytime.

Grieving is healthy.

jmgb said...

the only way out is through. which sounds cliche, but i have found to ring truth.

i love you and encourage you to keep writing--hot, bothered, overwhelmed and all:)

live your way into the decisions and answers. it's the only way you'll know them.

Jerry said...

I love you!!!

Anonymous said...

I went through the exact same thing after my son and I almost died in childbirth (and after I came out of the seven day coma and after I recovered my memory four months later...) ... I grieved so much. I grieved child number three we couldn't have. I re-grieved the two babies we lost. I desperately wanted to adopt (my husband was horrified).

I guess all that just to say, yes, it's real. I get it. It's not about gratitude. It's about your heart.

I'm sorry.

~Misha (Wallpaperofmymind)

KT said...

Thanks for the birthday wish on my blog. I had a nice day ruffled only by some teenager induced discomfort. (Raya's little sister, who is much too cute for her own good, is a boy magnet.)

I am so glad they caught your cancer early. Sounds like you have had a rough year indeed. I don't know how anyone LIVES in Arizona, much less, go through pregnancy there.

Bless you,

Bucksprings said...

Time (9/24/07) quotes Sean Penn in a review of his upcoming movie "Into the Wild" as saying "You've gotta feel your own life to have a quality of life, and our own inauthenticity, our corruptions, get in the way of that."

I am sorry that people have said insensitive things to you. I wonder if they are attempting to help you adapt to a situation that they just can't FEEL for themselves...but it isn't their shoes, so they really can't feel what your life is like.

Keep feeling and keep sharing. You are all very much loved!

Ashley said...

I know that grieving well. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

~Fellow Ovarian Cancer survivor

Katy said...

Admittedly, I would be one of those people that may say "At least you have two beautiful daughters"... But I would probably omit the "At least" part because that statement shouldn't indicate finality nor should it disregard your disappointment or feelings. I admire your courage and your honesty. And (yet) how lucky you are! I enjoy reading your blog and Stella is so animated, even in still photos! Say hello to Christa for me next time you see her! Your cuz, Katy

Whiskey said...

Hey, we're praying for you. Meliss may not be able to have kids either (we don't know yet).

Tara T. McIlrath said...

I hope you get your son