In the quiet of my day (the brief quiet that is) I sat and started reflecting. This past year I have had a lot of lows and some highs. How can you not when you feel death is knocking at your door?  As I have said before, I was so afraid I was going to be a tragic love story. I couldn’t let that happen. During this time of reflection I was listening to a Mumford and Sons song with the lyrics “Just promise me that we’ll be alright” and I kept thinking about Joe and I holding on tight to each other, to our babies, and most importantly to the good news we received a few weeks ago. So, now that we have this news, when do I start to feel normal after the struggles and pain I just went through? You just do, I guess. You find yourself never quite the same, but even better, and then some special moments come that make you feel just that…NORMAL. 

A few weeks ago I had one of those special moments. A couple of my college girls came over to visit, have some wine, and celebrate life. These girls have been through the thick with me this year. Visiting me at home, coming to chemo, and sending lots of love and prayers daily. But this night was normal. There was very little talk of cancer and more talk of daily life. You forget how nice it is to talk about being a mom, the day to day kind of talk. Before I knew it, there I was…I found myself being normal. Man, did that feel nice! I am blessed to have friends like these to make me feel myself again, to reminisce about the good old days, and to talk about the bright future ahead. These friends have been with me in the years where I grew up, decided to be a teacher, found my husband, and had my babies. They have been with me through the ups and downs and now they are here for me, to help create “normal”. 

My new normal feels pretty good. I am currently still taking my chemo pills, twice a day for 4 months. The side effects are minimal. Dry hands (but whose aren’t with this pandemic?) and the hardest one, fatigue. However, I am not complaining. This is so much easier than actual chemo. For me, my cancer journey is still going, but it is getting easier with each step I take.

I will continue to have marigolds even as I heal. These marigolds remind me that there is brightness even in the darkest of days. My marigolds today are my college gals. They reminded me of my youth and allowed me to look forward to my future.  My bouquet of flowers keeps getting bigger and bigger. I am blessed. 

There are certain moments in your life that shake you to the core.  So much so that you remember every detail of that moment. Where you were, what you were doing, and what you were wearing. That feeling never goes away. These moments usually happen when you least expect it. And now, everytime you see a photo, smell a smell, or hear a song that one moment that crept into your life without warning will never go away. Instead, it will haunt your thoughts from here on out.  

I have had a few of these moments within this past year. My soul is shaken up and I am not sure it will ever straighten back out. My most recent moment is receiving a phone call from my parents that my dad has stage IV lung cancer. My world stopped just as it had when I had received my own news like this months ago. How can our family go through this again? The thoughts that immediately go through my mind are more medical then I would have thought. Most likely because now I am filled with knowledge from my own cancer journey. After I move on from the medical terms and road map, my heart begins to sink. I would take another round of chemo just so that he doesn’t have to endure the pain that I have. I know that he felt the same about me as well. Heck, he even joked that his prayers had been answered when he had been praying that God would take my cancer away and give it to him.  This is just the kind of dad he is. ..faithful, positive, insightful, full of stories, and most importantly, full of humor. He treats life as a gift. Everyone who knows him, knows that. He has a contagious smile that lifts your spirits the minute you are with him. Man, I love this guy.

We are a close family, so when one of us falls, we all pitch in to hold that person up. Right now, we are all holding on tight to one another. How can one family go through so much suffering in one year? Just when we were feeling like celebrating.  

I have been reflecting a lot on suffering. What suffering looks like and why some suffer more than others. This…this is real suffering. And we need to find a way to overcome it. The only way to pull yourself out of this suffering is through prayer and family. Two things that I believe our family has mastered. So, while our hearts have been broken once again, we pray as hard as we can and trust that God will carry us through, knowing that when we are too tired to keep going, He will carry us. We can and will do this. After all, you don’t truly know what peace is until you have gone through suffering.

My Marigold is that through my own cancer journey, my family has learned how to fight. We have seen, and faced, pain before and we are ready to walk my dad through it. We are stronger, more in tune with one another, and most importantly, braver than a family could ever be. We will get my dad through this and when we do, he will walk with us, hand in hand, because that is what cancer gives you….strength. Strength through your deepest suffering and greatest pain. You all have been prayer warriors for me, and now it is time to spread those prayers to my dad. Papa Joe is one of those men who brightens the room when he walks into it,  he has words of wisdom when you need it, and only knows kindness. He is loved. Please pray for him and my family during this time. 

When I was first diagnosed, there was a feeling of hopelessness. I remember thinking on a daily basis, “I don’t want to die and how will I get through this?” One of the hardest parts about being diagnosed with cancer, or any illness, is letting the ones you love know about the tragic disease. Nothing can prepare you. I remember very clearly the night that I had told 3 of my close girlfriends. We met at Keys Cafe so they could see me. They just needed to see me. I found that many people just needed to meet with me after I shared the news with them. We sat in a booth at the back of the restaurant. All four of us were very quiet and teary eyed. We sipped on tea and soda for something to do as I poured out my fears. They felt that moment the way I was feeling it. And no words could fix it. I had cancer, a brand new baby, and a long road ahead of me. We were all stunned, sad, and scared. 

I thought I was going to feel that way forever. That there was no way I was going to make it through this journey that they call cancer. But slowly, I inched my way closer and closer to the finish line. 16 rounds of chemo, a double mastectomy and reconstruction, 25 rounds of radiation, and then something wonderful happened….

This past Thursday I went in for a PET scan. My doctor and I thought it would be good to see where I was at before I started my Chemo pill. I sat in this tiny room praying the rosary by myself as I waited for the scan. Finally it was time. 20 minutes of laying still, 20 minutes of scanning my body, 20 minutes of  wondering if I was cancer free. 

I got a call the next day (this past Friday). This was the best call I have had in a very long time. My doctor informed me that I had a clean scan! She saw NOTHING! I was finally cancer free. What seemed like a day that never was going to come, here it was. Right in front of me. To hold on to, to embrace, and to celebrate. After all, life should not just be lived, it should be celebrated. 

I started to think about all I have been through, all my family has been through, and wow do I feel grateful. This is the first time my baby gets to have a cancer free mama! There is so much living that I get to do and you better believe I will! 

I am still going to take the chemo pill. I will take it for about 4 months. This pill will help to prevent recurrence by 70%. I will take every percent I can so as not to go through this again. So, a little more treatment for a lifetime with my boys. 

My Marigold is being cancer free. But also going through cancer. There are moments that I have gained this past year that would never have happened if I didn’t have cancer. Moments like the one in Keys Cafe. While it was heart wrenching at the time, I hold it close in my heart. You can’t get that much closer to friends. Cancer has made me stronger than I ever thought I could be and even more than that, cancer has made me love so much harder. Who knew that cancer could be a blessing. 

As I take the next steps forward, I will take the chemo pill and continue my check ups. My doctor has said they will keep a close eye on me. I will continue to take one day at a time, because I don’t know what will be around the corner. Whatever it is though, I am prepared. Today, I celebrate life and the glory that God has graced me with.

Joe sees the beauty in me even when I don’t. Since all of this has begun I have been poked, cut, lasered, and put back together again. I look at my body and it seems a bit unrecognizable. How can things change so quickly in just one year? Who am I? I do not look the same, or even act the same. Instead, I am stronger, more faithful, and more present than I ever have been.  

My hair is starting to grow back and I have a pixie cut of sorts. Being that I have naturally curly hair, there are wings flipping up here and there. It is a look I can’t seem to get comfortable with; another unrecognizable part of me. But my husband, he looks at me with a genuine smile and tells me on the regular how beautiful I am and how much he likes it. He swears he is telling the truth, but I have to wonder at times. It feels good to have him appreciate me with all my imperfections (even more than before). It is a bit cliche but these scars are truly battle wounds in this fight. 

All of these imperfections got me through the next step of my cancer journey. This past Friday, I completed 25 rounds of radiation. This too has changed my 37 year old body.  My skin is left to burn, blister, and throb, but I know it will be over soon. It was so daunting before I had begun radiation. I didn’t know how I would get there every day, five days a week. But in all honesty, it went very smooth and rather quickly. Now we wait and pray that radiation has zapped all remaining cancer cells that could exist. 

On to the next step….the chemo pill. I had previously mentioned in my last blog that I was going back to work. Since then, I have had a few conversations with my doctor, and we have decided it is best for me to stay home until January. The chemo pill suppresses my immune system which makes the risk too high of being exposed to all the infectious diseases out there, Covid being the most scary. I am disappointed. I was hoping to start my life again, however, I know this is the right thing to do. Heck, it gives me more time with my sweet Edwin. By January I can start work because my white blood cells should be up and running again…march on little white soldiers!  So, I will wait a bit longer, stay healthier, and stay here for the ones I love.

I have two marigolds today. Joe has been and will always be my marigold. He stands strong next me and illuminates me with his kindness. The second is the completion of Radiation. It feels so good to have that behind me. I am almost there…the finish line is getting closer. 

Joe wanted to capture some candid photos of me during my cancer journey. Here are two….Scars, burns, short hair, me. He sees the beauty in me, even when I don’t.

I am the youngest of 4 girls. You can imagine the conversations, clothes sharing, and dance parties that we had growing up. Never a dull moment. And I am pretty sure there was always one of us who was crying over what someone else said. But in the end, we always had each other’s back; to cheer one up when they were down, to be a leader when the other needed guidance, and to tell a funny story when all you needed was a good laugh. We always had each other, even when we were apart. I never thought there would come a day when I would have to lean on them more than I have had to these past few months. They have been by my side through the toughest times, saddest times, and even those in between silly times. This journey is hard, but my sisters are right next to me. 

My oldest sister Kenna has always been strong, confident, and a caregiver. I remember crying my eyes out when she left for college (I was in 4th grade) and then again when she got married. I was so afraid of losing her. For me, she was like a second mom. My big sister. When I was little I counted on her to take care of me. And she did as if I was hers. I looked up to her as she poured out her love.  She is a constant in my life and throughout this past year that has not stopped. 

Next in line is my sister Kelly. Unfortunately, Kelly has also been going through breast cancer these past few months as well. I am so thankful that it was stage 1. She has completed her treatment and she is doing great. For me, Kelly has always had a special place in my heart. We used to make up dance routines in her room and lip sync to songs. She gives me almost daily affirmations that I hold close to my heart and she is ALWAYS there. No judgement, just listening. I am so thankful for those listening ears and a gentle heart. 

Finally, Lindsey. Lindsey is an extension of me. She and I grew up sharing a room which inevitably has made us so incredibly close. She knows what I am thinking when I don’t have the words and I, the same for her. It was probably the hardest for me to tell her that I was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. I knew that it would impact her as much as it has me. But like she always is with me, she was calm, clear headed, and loving. She reminds me all the time, she is not worried: I will get through this and be cancer free. Whether she has doubted this or not, she would never let me know. She is the one I call when I am scared, sad, or just have something funny to share. She is my rock and she will always be.

These amazing ladies are walking alongside me on this journey each and every day. So, where am I on this journey? I have completed 4 weeks of radiation and am in my final week! I go every day, 5 days a week, with the weekends off. This has been a unique treatment for me. I knew very little going in. The entire process takes about 15 minutes. I lay down in a mold of my body, where they make sure I am precisely lined up to the dots that they had previously tattooed on me, and then the treatment begins. I don’t see or feel the lazors but my skin shows it is working. The only symptoms that I have are red irritated skin, much like sunburn, and fatigue. While it is irritating, it is nothing compared to chemo. 

I have just one week left of radiation and then I will begin the chemo pill for 4 months. In the meantime, I am planning on going back to work and trying to do things that make me happy! Life is short and this year has been so difficult, for everyone, so do what makes you happy! 

This week, I have a sweet bouquet of 3 bright marigolds, Kenna, Kelly, and Lindsey.  Thank you beautiful sisters for brightening my days.

This past week my family got up to the North Shore. We celebrated all of the fine things in life with my in-laws. Each day felt like a little gift. It was peaceful, joyful, and so needed. When you spend your days praying that today is the day you are cured, your brain, and your soul, need a break and that is exactly what we as a family got. I found myself watching a flock of geese one day. A mother goose along with all her goslings following her swam to shore. The goslings waited in the water while she scanned the shoreline. I can only assume this was to make sure it was safe for her babies to enter. She then entered the water again and the goslings waddled on to shore. The mother stayed watch like no other creature I had seen. She was ready to charge anyone that came too close to her young. And believe me, I have been a victim of the goose charge and it is not pleasant! It made me think, why do I call myself a mama bear, when clearly I am mother goose!  I will charge, peck, and chase anyone who is going to harm my young. 

My goslings have been resilient through this challenging time in my life. They have seen their mom in bed for days, lose her hair, and have such little energy she has to say, “not today.” They are strong boys, and they are ready for future hardship, and they don’t even know it. Our family’s next hardship is starting this week. Radiation, 5 days a week for 5 weeks. My first session will be on Friday. This past week I had a CT done and little tattoo dots on my body for precise measurements with the lasers. At this point, if I got through chemo, I know I can do anything. The quicker I get to radiation, the quicker I’ll be done and be able to just be a mother goose. 

I would be remiss if I didn’t use this blog as a written letter to my children for all their strength. This is a chance for me to be able to write to them, so they can always hold on to my words and thoughts. But, it is also something for me to look back on and remember this challenging journey. And yes, I will look back. I will someday read these entries and remind myself I can do anything. Until then, this is for my goslings…

To Arland:

You are the oldest, so strong and so aware of all your mama is going through. I want to thank you for being sensitive, resilient, and kind. This year you started kindergarten, became a big brother again, and watched your mom go to medicine days, week after week. I know it was hard on you, but I couldn’t be prouder of you. You made friends, helped around the house, played and loved your siblings, and continued to be 6 years old! I love watching you use your creativity and imagination. You impress me every day. I love you my first baby bird. You are amazing and will do amazing things.

To Amos:

My sweet middle child. You have been by my side snuggling me when I needed it the most. I am blessed to feel your arms around me day after day. You have been so strong and determined during this challenging time. Trying never to show your fear, but always letting me know how you feel. You are confident, strong willed, and so lovable. I love watching you grow into a big boy. You too impress me every day. You will accomplish so much as you grow! I can’t wait to watch you fly. I love you 2nd baby bird.

To Edwin:

You are a ray of sunshine on the cloudiest of days. My heart was complete when you came into this world. Just in the nick of time before I couldn’t have you any more. You were meant to complete our family. You are the definition of joy with the biggest smile and gentlest demeanor. You give me strength with your kind face and snuggles. God knew my heart needed you. I can’t wait to watch you grow into a tiny human. I love you baby bird #3.

My Marigold is easy to tell this week. These 3 children of mine are truly gifts from God, giving me the mindset to fight harder and longer. I was made to be their mother, and that I will always be. 

The past few weeks I have been soaking up every moment with friends and family. I feel the best I have felt in a very long time. I am healing quickly from surgery and my energy is coming back. I still have 5 more days until I can hold Edwin. I count down every minute until I can. We have made it work however, I sit on the floor and he briskly army crawls to me and climbs right up on my lap. It is the sweetest.

I have a little bit of an update since my last entry. While my surgeon had gone over the pathology report with me, my oncologist wanted to meet with me as well. Due to the lymph node that still showed cancer in it, I will have to add to my treatments. They are concerned that there may be some microscopic cancer cells that still exist from the path where my tumor was to where the lymph nodes were. Because of this, I will still do my 5 weeks of radiation, 5 days a week, but I will follow up that treatment with a chemo pill for 4 months. I would be lying if I said this didn’t bother me. It’s hard to hear I will have more treatments and that I am not cancer free yet. However, I have faith this will take care of the remaining cancer cells. I have battled for a long time, but there is no way am I ready to stop. 

So, I am preparing for treatments to start up again, but in the meantime I am enjoying each day. I have had socially distanced happy hours, gone for long walks, visited at my parents pool, and enjoyed the simplicity of being home on summer days with my littles. I recently have been wearing my wig when I go out and about. This brings me such joy. I feel pretty, I feel well, and most importantly, I feel normal again. It is a gift that keeps bringing me joy and joy to my boys. Amos has said to me, “Mommy, will you wear your wig everyday? You look like mommy in it.” While I don’t wear it every day, I love the look on his face when I walk down the stairs in it. 

My Marigold this week is my Godmother Kate. She purchased this wig for me and I don’t know if she will ever know how much it means to me. I can walk out of my house and not have people give me sad eyes. I blend into the crowd, I have a little hop in my step, and I am me again. I am thankful for not only the wig, but the daily prayers and support that she has given me. These prayers are strong right now through this challenging time, but for her and I, we have prayed for each other for a long time. She has always meant the world to me and I will always be thankful for her.  She is one of my Marigolds in my blooming garden.

I find it hard to write tonight in the midst of everything that is going on in the world around us. It is all so much bigger than hearing about the updates of my surgery and pathology report. My heart is heavy and I pray for peace tonight, and always. 

I do want to share about my surgery and results though, as many have been asking. My surgery went very well. It was very odd to have surgery during the Covid time. My dad just dropped me off at the door like I was going to my first day of school. I looked back at him, waved good-bye, and in I walked. All my doctors involved were great and things could not have gone smoother. 

The pain is real for this surgery. Drain tubes, bruising, and stitches. But, I am making it through. The hardest part is not holding my sweet babes. 1 week down, 3 to go, and then I will not put him down again. He is my daily dose of joy. 

My pathology report came back earlier this week. My surgeon said it was 99.9% excellent. The tumor that was in my breast was completely gone when she got in there. No traces of cancer. She also removed 2 lymph nodes. Both indicated cancer cells. One tested negative for cancer the other one tested positive. She said it was so small that it could not be seen by the naked eye. But, because of this, they worry there could be other cancer cells left behind. So, radiation is a must. Everyone says that radiation is as good as surgery, so with all my heart I pray this will finally take care of it.  The results were good, but not as good as I was hoping. 

I am worn out. 7 months ago, my body gave birth to a healthy baby boy, and without fully recovering, just 8 weeks later my body endured 16 rounds of chemo, followed by an intense surgery. My body is tired. And  when my body is tired, my mind is even more exhausted. I will be starting radiation in 3 weeks, and by then, I hope to be rejuvenated. 

My Marigold is that even though my pathology report did not come back squeaky clean as I hoped, my main tumor was gone. Things are working, but I guess my body just needs a little more time to fight this dang cancer off.  I will do it, I have to. There is no other option.

Tomorrow is the big day! My surgery will be bright and early starting at 8:30 am. I am having such a mix of emotions, mostly excited to be moving forward to the next steps. Tomorrow will be the first time in 6 months that we will find out how well the chemo worked. This part is where my hesitation lies, what will find out? I am feeling very confident in not only my medical team, but also my body! It has been working so hard to fight this cancer off and from what we know by breast exams, it seems to have responded very well to the chemo. 

About 6 months ago I found out the scary news of my cancer. My mom and I were talking this weekend and we recalled how far we (all of us impacted) have come. It was such a hopeless feeling at the beginning–hearing stage 3 and getting the PET scan back that it had reached my lymph nodes. I remember thinking I can’t be taken away from my boys!  Now however, we both cheerfully said we feel so hopeful! It has been a long journey and there is more to come, but we feel peace and we KNOW I am sticking around to watch my babies grow. 

Early on when Edwin was just 8 weeks old, my mom said to me, “God would not have given Edwin to you just to take you away from him.” I have held those words in my heart each day and have prayed for just that. 

So tomorrow we find out how well my body has responded to chemo and remove the remaining cancer (if any)! I can do this; I can handle the pain. I just want to get to the next step of recovery!

My Marigold…Moving on with hopefulness. I am so thankful my heart is filled with hope and has erased the feeling of hopelessness.

May 1st was my LAST day of chemo! 16 rounds, done! Mission accomplished! I had the most beautiful celebration as I finished on that Friday. I was guided home from chemo with cars lining my route from friends, family, co workers, and past students. They had signs, bells, and so much love. I was overwhelmed with emotion. My heart was, and still is, so full from this beautiful day. Thank you to each and everyone of you that came out to cheer me on as I made my way home and made my way across the chemo finish line. You have no idea how much it meant to me. That day was a big accomplishment and you all allowed me to celebrate it. I am so grateful for this village around me. THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU.

Chemo is complete and now I am moving on to the next step. I will be having a double mastectomy and reconstruction surgery on Thursday, May 21st. It is coming quick! They will also be removing the lymph nodes that had shown the cancer had spread too. I am so looking forward to this next step. It brings me that much closer to being healed. I will have 4 weeks of no lifting, or doing much of anything. Those of you who know me, know this will be hard. Especially, because that means not lifting my little bundle of JOY, Edwin. Ugh, that will be the hardest. However, staying on the positive side, as I always say, I will sacrifice this little bit of time for a lifetime with my boys. From my surgery, they will be able to determine the exact path of treatment for me after surgery. For now, they are very hopeful and we are planning on just 5 weeks, every day, of radiation. Hopefully after that, I will be on my way to recovery!

Each day I get a little more of my energy back as I recover from that last round of chemo. I sleep a little less, I laugh a little more, and I even find myself singing along to the radio again. It feels amazing knowing that this Friday, I get to just be, no going into chemo! I will keep healing and regaining strength for the big day next week. 

My Marigold is simple this week…MY VILLAGE! All of you are my marigold. My strength comes from the love you have shown and I am forever strong and forever grateful! Thank you all for everything you have and are doing to keep me and my family going. We are able to rejoice when things are hard because of you! Thank you.

Last Day Of Chemo…