C is cancer and it's scary enough for me......

Before he strolled into the room, I said "Tom? Is it OK if I blog about today..." his response "of course" - funny when you don't have a therapist to pay or a pill to pop what really will help you get through the tough times. I have never blogged before a few weeks ago and always made fun of it but now it's my hour at the therapy office. I've  avoided the topic for as long as I can and in the mix of everything going on, I can ignore it no longer (is that proper English). I should already put warning out there that this blog will lack any sort of formality. It will be somber and probably the last thing anyone needs to read on a day like today (if you live on the east coast). No need to give background on what I'm blogging about...the subject lines says enough.  The day started at 3am - time to feed Frankie, time to print the Will, time to get ready to go to the hospital.  We moved slowly, methodically,  as we got ready to head out in the ice storm for Tom's surgery. His second one in two months...I remarked we were becoming old pros but we both are scared of the same thing....this might not be his last. We spoke only a few times saying the same thing - "you OK?" "yeah, you?" We cried. We laughed. We sat in silence on our way down the road. In the darkness of the morning we were sluggish and worried - both of us for different things.  I can't speak for him but I imagine it was the fact that he was going to have his chest cut open, his organs removed and his lymph nodes scraped out. I imagine he was scared about the recovery, two weeks in the hospital which sounds like an eternity. I am worried because I am a mom and we are raising two beautiful little girls.  They are still babies in the big book of life and they only know the world we allow them to see. When Tom told us we were moving to NYC I thought OK fine...not happy but we will deal. When Tom told me it was in August, I nearly fainted...UMM I'm due in OCTOBER!! So I stayed in Boston and we lived two very different lives. When I delivered Frankie, he missed it, when I had labor pains, he wasn't there. So maybe staying in Boston wasn't such a great idea but it's done. Then came November new baby, and trips back and forth to NYC for Fin's nursery schools, all the while searching for apartments and nursing Frankie who was only a few weeks old while Tom was in California....new school for Finley, new job for Tom, new baby for me.  White girl problems...yes I know - minuscule to so many other things out there but to me it was exhausting.  I stopped asking how people were doing and started just chewing there ear off about all things me. "Who cares" now that I look back on it! I wish one of my many amazing friends just said "we get it Chiara but get over it!" See all the moving around, the sleepless nights, the raising of a very cranky two year old pales in comparison to the hear and now.  When Tom dropped the C bomb on me, my world froze. I went through the stages, doesn't everybody? Anger, denial, acceptance....I've never looked them up but those were the stages I went through. Angry because after so many months of being apart and so many months of doing EVERYTHING I was going to move to NYC and maybe get some time for myself....and then you go and get CANCER?! I know, sounds nuts, right? Mean? Insincere? You're right but it's how I felt.  Then denial. Life still needs to go on, I still have a baby to nurse, and a two year who won't poop. I have a new apartment to turn into a home and new mom friends to make....can't be bothered with your cancer now. Then acceptance and with that word came a whole host of emotions. He has cancer and the rode is going to be long. Death isn't our worry - with a 97% survival rate how could it be? So we slip on the yellow bands again. Yup, those same yellow bands I thought were so cool and only wore because everyone else did is now my reality. I think about my children first - to Finley he walks on water and now she will see him barely walking at all.  To Frankie she barely knows his scent, his touch and how much longer until she gets the father Finley had at this age? This won't be my last post about Tom's cancer...I feel better already and I have barely skimmed the surface. He's strong and he will be OK it's just that it's the C word and it's scary enough for me.