I Hate Something Bad

Yesterday Niobe was posting about the phrase "nothing bad has happened yet." (NBHHY) I'd only recently come across this phrase/philosophy. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I could see how it is an attempt to just live in the moment. Yet the fear and implication of impending disaster was disheartening as well. I decided to mull it over a bit before commenting.

I'd decided that I would finally call my best friend M to share our news of the babies. I was excited to pick her brain, as she has (non-ART) twin girls who are just turning one this month, as well as an older son. I was looking forward to living in the moment for a change, and talking about minivans and strollers and breastfeeding.

Before I knew it the world was looking very different. After briefly saying hello and both of us apologizing for being out of touch since the fall, the day simply shattered. My friend, MW, who has felt more of a sister to me than my own, began to fill me in the last couple weeks in their lives. Her husband, MM, had been having some health issues lately. I knew that MM had a history of atrial fibrillation, so was concerned he was having troubles again. Then she reveals he has had a colonoscopy and a rectal mass was found. I'm surprised, but not yet shocked. Then she calmly goes on to say the biopsy was suspicious for malignancy. Again, I'm upset but still hopeful for a good outcome. But the last shoe drops. A CT scan shows metastatic lesions in the liver, and possibly lung. I am speechless. This is something bad. Very bad.

This is the couple we have asked to be our son's legal guardians, despite many siblings in both our families. This is the couple who helped us get an apartment next to them when we had our big rottweiler. This is the couple who cooked dinner with us many nights a week for 2 years. This is the couple that we drank wine with and played cards until late in the night and then stumbled across the hall to our own beds. This is the couple who held my hand while we tried for our first child. MW was present and held my hand at the birth of that child. This is the couple we have considered relocating to be closer to. These are our friends.

MM is 35-years-old. Rectal adenocarcinoma with metastatic lesions has a 5-year survival rate of 10%. That means 90% of patients are dead in 5 years. He will likely need multiple surgeries, extensive chemo and possibly other adjuctive therapies. Their son is 4 and the twin girl are not even a year old yet. My heart is breaking.

I feel horribly frustrated that we live a day's drive away. Here I am, not working. I could do so much for them, if only we were closer. I know there are things I can (and will) do. Sending care packages, messages, listening. But I so wish there was more.

Right now, they don't even have a complete diagnosis yet. They will to talk with many doctors before settling on the plan. I still have hope. He is young, strong, otherwise healthy and motivated. But their normal life was difficult and harried. This future is going to become unbearable.

I welcome suggestions of ways to help. Since it seems that some form of chemo will be inevitable, I'd like to knit MM a cozy hat. I know many of you are knitters. Can you help me? I need a simple pattern, as I am a beginner. I've never knitted in the round, but hear it's easy. Then I need recommendations for some super soft yarn. Most of the projects I've done use cheapy stuff from the craft store. I want something luxurious.

I am not religious. But I can't help but ask for prayers and good thoughts for my wonderful friends.

************************************************

Thanks for the suggestion to head to TEAM WHY MOMMY. I've actually been to Toddler Planet before, and was planning on heading back for advice. Thanks for the reminder.

All Out of Clever

Not that I'm a comic genius, but I haven't much to say. I've bandied about a few nice post ideas, but can't seem to get committed. First trimester illness (FTI) has set in and is in full force. I am nauseous all the time, have no appetite, I am tired in the day and can't sleep at night, and my ocular migraines are back.

Okay, was that whining? Opps, sorry.

Obviously I am thrilled at this pregnancy. Terrified of complications, but thrilled nonetheless. But I refuse to fall into that trap that I'm not allowed to be miserable if my body decrees so. And it is. So I am.

Today was actually a bit better. But I guess I'm realizing that with the whole 2 babies thing, that means double whammy of FTI. I know others have had a much worse time, so I really can't be too grumpy. And I could handle it better if it weren't for the headaches and dizziness. I am hoping that with weaning the progesterone that the migraine stuff will abate.

And so, I'm off to attempt to cook something for dinner that will perhaps appeal to my roiling belly. But probably not.

7w6d

The scan went fine. Two babies, two heart beats. I feel incredibly lucky. Especially after reading about this sad event last night.

I'm not sure what else to say. I'm intermittently ecstatic and fearful. This is exactly what I'd hoped for, yet it feels very unreal. I'm overwhelmed of all the things I'll need to accomplish in a few short months.

And so, I'm off to nap instead.

Pre-Scan Jitters

Facing tomorrow with trepidation. Scan will be in the afternoon. I will be 7w6d.

Its possible that it could be a beautiful moment. My husband will be coming with me. We could see these babies with heartbeats and limb buds and smile at one another. Perhaps I'll shed tears of joy.

Or it could be very different. I hate feeling like the classic IFer full of doom and gloom. In reality, I'm still having nausea, some mild fatigue, and my ocular migraines have returned -- so there really isn't any indication that things have gone wrong. But now I know so many of your stories, and it is hard not to have some fear before this appointment.

We do still excitedly talk of car seats, cribs and such. But I still can't help by adding that typical if this works out or assuming things are fine. Its tiring. I keep telling myself that if we can get to 12 weeks that I will let go of the concerns. I WILL enjoy this experience. Although even if I can achieve that lofty goal, I think our lives will get so crazy with selling the house and moving to LA that I might not have much chance.

Circle

Growing up I was never the girl with a big circle of friends. I had one or two that I spent time with through childhood. Of course, my parents disapproved of them. In college, there were even fewer. My sister was the one who joined a sorority, lived in a house full of young women, took vacations to the beach with an entire brood. Not me.

Since beginning this blog I've been startled by how easy it has been to connect with women to whom I can relate. And not just because of our shared journey through IF. I have found other women in the sciences, women who love to write, women who yearn for a more balanced life. I have found those who share my hobbies, like photography and knitting. I have found lovely, educated, spiritual (not necessarily religious), grounded, thoughtful and giving women.

This experience has done so much more than give me a support system or community as I travel through IF. It has provided me that circle of women friends that I often yearned for but never found.

Thank you.