Tonight the kids and I went to Mass, and it was the first time in a long time that I was listening with all of my heart. When we were singing "Glory to God in the highest, and peace to people of goodwill..." I started to cry, you know those tears that you can't control and yet you fight anyway. The ones everyone pretends they don't see, but their eyes say they do. In this moment Elizabeth asked me why I was crying, and when I told her I would explain after Mass she reached up and wiped away my tears. Jake wrapped his arms around me, and somehow I didn't fall apart and crumple into a ball on the floor in the middle of the church.
Since we were sitting in the front row (yes, I let the kids pick our seats when it is just us 3 and they like to be able to see everything) I'm certain that Fr. Pat wasn't the only one who had front row seats to our moment. But for the first time along this journey I didn't care who was watching or what they thought. I wonder if they could tell that I didn't know how to explain to her that I am angry, a little lost, and yet I have faith in God. That at moments like this I can find all of my strength in their two small hearts and know that it will all be OK someday.
I feel this need to ask, "why again?" Like there is some answer or some lesson that I have to learn the hard way. I've had conversations with many different friends and family about this idea that there is some higher purpose to my having to have breast cancer 3 times. I must have missed some important lesson the first two times, although that seems to reek of the movie Groundhog's Day.
A convincing argument in my head, and in my heart, is that I have to learn to ask for and accept help more often. I think it is the asking part in particular that is my challenge. So many people have offered to help, and I am going to let them, I just have to figure out what to ask for help doing. Which, as moms everywhere can understand, is a lot harder than just doing it all yourself.
SO to my many people of goodwill, I will accept your offers and find a place for as much help as I can.
Well this post was waaaaaaaaay more emotional than I intended..... I was really just planning to let you know that after some back and forth between the surgeon and the plastic surgeon we have set a date. On September 27th (yes that is a Saturday) I will have a double mastectomy with reconstruction. It is expected to be about a 12 hour surgery with a night or two hospital stay. I haven't done any online research about what to expect, but doctors everywhere seem to like to say that this is a very painful procedure. Meh, bring it on!!! This tough cookie will come out even stronger in the end.
