When babies are born, it’s a happy time.
A scary time, a stressful time, and sometimes a panicked time.
But still a joyous, happy time.
I feel bad sometimes that I maybe took the joy out of the joyous time when a baby was born.
Three years ago.
But I was in the hospital, knowing that I had a killer tumor growing inside me (soft tissue sarcoma).
Wondering about the words chemotherapy, pancreatic cancer, hair loss, kidneys, survival rates, wills, and life insurance.
I had to go under the knife again for the second time in 2 weeks.
I had to stop taking pain meds for the first surgery so I wouldn’t bleed out during my second surgery.
I couldn’t pick up my baby (at the time).
My husband and I couldn’t have a normal conversation because he could NOT let himself think of anything that had to do with me and surgery and chemo and kidneys and survival rates and widows and single fathers.
It was just too much.
I was surrounded by love.
And friends. [AMAZING friends. friends who i will know and love respect and appreciate forever.]
And prayers. (seriously. lots and lots and lots of prayers. and blessings)
I had family and friends at the hospital when they wheeled me in because a life could end, and regret is horrible and can eat you up.
I made it.
I endured the most awful and horrible and all-consuming pain I had ever imagined I could deal with (think: a bazillion tiny nerve endings cut in 5 seconds in order to save me from bleeding out).
I was NOT brave about it [because when i came to after the anesthesia i asked the nurses to please put me into a coma or something so i wouldn't have to deal with the pain, but they just told me to stop crying and i would feel ok soon]
And three years later, I am here.
With my family.
With my farm.
With my boys.
I am grateful.
And I am happy.
And I am joyous.
My life is not perfect.
I am not perfect.
But I am here.
And I am thankful.