I should feel happy.
I should feel joy.
Instead I feel anger.
Fear mongering led me here. Lies lay the foundation. Depression closed the curtains.
It is dark where I sit. I mourn the loss of my own life the last two years. I miss my good health. I miss being happy. I miss being able to make plans for the future.
Today Stanford handed me back my life and Emma's. For one brief moment relief washed over me. My baby was going to LIVE. She was not going to die a horrible death from a cancerous brain tumor taking over her functions. Live. It would be a life of monitoring and surgeries and medications but it was going to be a life. The relief washed over me and was quickly replaced by anger.
I felt the Mama Bear ROAR inside of me.
Emma was not miraculously healed, she was accurately diagnosed and now had a treatment plan appropriate for that diagnosis.
What if I fought harder when the doctors refused to do my referrals? What if I pushed Stanford harder to accept the referral from our family doctor? What if I said "screw the insurance" and carted her off to Stanford at the very beginning when our insurance refused to cover the facility? Did I push hard enough?
My newsfeed displays bald heads, "in memory of" pictures, and parents begging for prayer. Guilt. Why do they have to continue to fight and we are now free? I should be happy.
Last year my kid had cancer. This year she will not. This year I will not have nightmares of her funeral. This year will not be filled with chemo tantrums, needles, handfuls of hair on our pillow case.
We are free. Why can't I be happy?