Not Okay

In the past 48 hours I've received 9 emails asking how I'm doing. I've been debating writing this post for more than 48 hours, and I may regret it later, but I'm tired of pretending that I'm fine so I'll just answer you all here.

While I don't feel well physically, emotionally I feel completely battered. I knew this was going to be hard, but I clearly underestimated how hard it would be to face the reality that chemo is now my way of life. That I'm never going to get to quit. That there is no hope of a cure. That I am probably not going to see my children grow up or grow old with my husband. That physically, this is as good as it gets.

I know I should look at chemo as a gift. It's supposed to kill cancer. But chemo hasn't proven to kill my cancer; it just makes me sick.

I'm tired of being an "inspiration." Tired of choosing joy, choosing gratitude. Tired of not knowing where we'll live or work. Tired of waiting on God to speak. Tired of crying. Tired of waiting for my hair to fall out (something the nurses neglected to tell me about this chemo even though it was the first thing I asked). Tired of being the girl with cancer, putting on my brave face when we go out in public, worrying about how everyone else feels.

I am overwhelmed with grief. And fear of the future. I don't know how to get past these feelings. I want to be a normal 36 year old whose children don't have to worry about their bald mama and cancer. I want to plan a life for us. I want to actually CHOOSE what happens to us next. I want to celebrate my son's 9th birthday and not worry that I won't be here for number 10. 

I think a blog break is in order because it is exhausting keeping up the facade that everything is okay. Everything is not okay. Becky mentioned on Facebook the other day that she was looking at pictures from our trip to St. Louis 2 years ago and longing for those carefree days. I spent the rest of that day crying because it feels like our family will never have another carefree day. And that's not okay.