That Morning

So I did not get much sleep waiting for the scan results, but I was the mom of a newborn, so it was really just part of life just not the normal cause. The next morning, I had a hard time. And that is putting it very lightly. There was A LOT of the ugly cry happening.

It was really everything to me what these results would show. Even though, I know now, that the scans are not 100% reliable, it was the only window into what was going on inside my body. This day could answer what we were able anticipate for our family’s future. And apparently I decided to deal with it by getting out of bed that morning, coming out to have breakfast with That Guy and That Little Girl, and crawling right back into bed to sob holding That Baby. So there I was crying, holding my brand new baby, waiting for the phone to ring. Sounds very emotionally stable and strong, right?

At some point, I talked to my mom. I think That Guy may have called her to see what he should do about me. I can’t even remember, but I do remember just wanting my mom to be there with me. However, she had other plans for the day. There were still arrangements to be made for my grandfather’s services. So it was decided I would take That Baby and go with my aunt and mom to look at funeral flowers. Yes, let’s put that in perspective. They sent me to help choose funeral flowers to get my mind off of things. Honestly, I was looking for my grandfather and part of me couldn’t help but think oh yes, they could use something like that for me if they need to. See, told you I went to dark places these first days. I was rough.

After we were done at the florist, we headed to the funeral home. We were only there a few minutes when my phone rang with a hospital number. I happened to be in a room with just my mom and the baby. The nurse said that the scan did not “light up” any areas of concern. There were areas that reacted to the materials, but it made sense as I was lactating and had just given birth that both those areas would show. I must have asked her to read me the words exactly at least twice and asked her about 17 times that this was all good and meant it was not known to have spread. I remember saying something to my nurse about being surprised it was her on the phone and not my doctor. She said, “Well, that is because this is good news. If you had heard Dr. So and So’s voice, it would have been bad news.” Well, that will never leave my brain now so I will forever be hoping to hear my nurse’s voice when tests are done. By the time we got off the phone, I started crying. My mom started crying. Then my aunt came in and then the funeral director came in. It was probably the best news ever in that little room.

I didn’t want to call and tell That Guy on the phone. And we had to get back to our house to meet the minister handling the funeral services. So we headed out to meet That Little Girl and That Guy back at the house. I did call my dad and tell him the news once we were back home. That Guy eventually got home (new camera in hand!) and I was able to tell him in the baby’s room for some privacy. I have no idea what I was expecting, but my calm husband literally said “Oh, ok, good.” I stood there shocked there wasn’t more relief, excitement, joy, or anything. Apparently, he was taking ‘acting as my rock’ literally. That didn’t make my day, but he has since explained he just didn’t expect any other answer.

Another important thing came out of this day. Now that we had more answers than questions, at least in my mind, I was finally starting to feel comfortable with people outside of my “inner circle” knowing what was going on. We had a healthy happy baby. We had full body scan results. We had a plan of attack for treatment. I felt more prepared to answer the questions people would inevitably have when they learned the news. My minister asked if he could share the news in church that week. I seriously debated. Obviously the extra prayers, love, and support were the positives. But I didn’t want people to worry about me. I didn’t want people talking about it without having spoken to us and knowing the entire situation. In the end, I decided that having the support outweighed the things that were out of my control. That was a big deal for me to open up and share what was going on.

So for those of you who know me, and believe I’ve been so strong, I have not. I try. I keep it together since there is not really another option. We have kids. We have my parents helping us in every way they are able day to day. We have friends. And we have decent health insurance. We have received support and love from people in so many parts of our lives. There are a million ways that this could be worse. And I don’t have the capacity to sit in bed and feel sorry for myself. Right now anyway. I don’t ever wish to feel like I did that morning ever again. But I am sure I will, as this will be a monitoring situation for the rest of my life. There will always be checks and tests and there will be unknowns to be uncovered and known. But we got through that morning, and we will get through the others.