Brave Mom

On my wrist is a bracelet with two words stamped on it, "Brave Mom". Not because I am already brave, sometimes I am, but more because it reminds me of what I want to be. Am I strong? Yes. But often in this cancer battle I wonder if I am strong enough? How much can I endure before I crack?

This week started with an MRI. The scans show a tiny bit of decreasing in tumor size but it is so small that it is in the zone of error. So this means the chemo could be doing nothing. That was a hard pill to swallow.

The next day we were gathering gifts to bring to Sophie. Then I got a text from her mother, Sophie already went home to God. We missed our window, she was gone. I got this news while Emma was taking a nap. When she woke up and asked to go see Sophie I told her through tears, "No sweetie, Sophie went home to God in heaven." She knew this must be sad because tears were rolling down my face. "Can I take her the balloons in heaven?" Then I really started to cry and told her no, that Sophie was gone. So we symbolically went outside and release the balloon we were going to bring to her that day into "heaven" and said goodbye.

Over the days to come I was on the phone asking for referrals for the next steps. One doctor I talked to said one line that has haunted me this whole week. We were talking about addiction and how I am worried Emma will become addicted to anti anxiety meds if we treat her with them now. He said that since the tumor will kill her anyway so are we really worried about her

Emma and Sophie

becoming addicted? Part of me knows he was right. But 99% of me screamed out in horror. No, no, no, we treat her as if she will live a long and happy life. My child does not have an expiration date.

It was a week of horrible, terrible experiences that no mother should endure and all in the same week. Yesterday I went into our bedroom to get something for Cora and fell to the floor in great heaving sobs. Uncontrolled rage and sadness poured out of me so violently that I shook. Naturally the girls came looking for me after 10 minutes and we all ended up on the floor in a giant hug. Emma wanted to know why I was so sad. All I could come up with is, "My heart hurts" she offered me a hug and a band aid. I must admit, they helped. Today I woke up from a night of terrible dreams looked down at the bracelet my friend Sarah gave me month ago that reads "Brave Mom." Good God, I hope so.