Tonight I sat rocking my little girl in the chair to snuggle her while she had trouble getting back to sleep. I am not one for rocking my kids to sleep, just b/c I have heard bedtime nightmares with kids depending on it. But of course when they need their love and snuggles I am open arms. As I sat holding her, I felt a soft rub against my cheek,,,it was her long, little eyelashes. "Butterfly kisses". Ahh, it made my heart melt and tears just started falling.
It is those moments that have made the decision to have pbm a no brainer. Those are the moments I need to be here for. I want to be able to experience fully my children's life and their own growth. I also feel the sadness for myself in some way too. As she lay against my chest tonight I thought am I going to feel this in two months. Will it feel the same to hug and lay with my kids. I will never be able to breast feed again, and how am I going to tell a one year old mommy can't hold you. That breaks me up inside. I know it is temporary, but it really weighs heavy at times. The emotions and thoughts go from one extreme to another.
As July 28th come near, I feel that this journey is becoming more of an emotional one rather than a physical one. It is not just about losing a part of myself, but trying to think and prepare for the unknown. Anticipation! There is the rational, medical side of me who knows things will be hard in the beginning then gradually become normal again. Then the irrational, emotional, analytical side who fears this surgery will change who I am forever, and nothing will be what it was; that being my life. Those are two very big differences in thinking. It goes beyond a mastectomy, I am rethinking my whole life, and with the way my life has been, I am reliving the roller-coaster, but looking at it in a whole different light. Perhaps it is looking at my own mortality, how fragile our bodies are, and how our bodies can turn on us at any moment.
It is the thought of not feeling safe in my own body that I frequently feel these days. Who doesn't feel safe in their own body? And I am not ill! As my breast surgery comes closer, the fear of ovarian cancer lurks in the background. Last month I was convinced I had something going on with my ovaries. It consumed me at times. I do not consider myself to be a paranoid person, but I had fear in my bones. I thought, great I am going to remove my breast, and then get diagnosed with ovarian cancer. It is never ending. Will I ever trust this body? Will this surgery give me peace?
In order to move forward and stay positive, I will embrace and hold onto my butterfly kisses. And be thankful for everyday!
Thanks for listening!