Ramblings Of A Mom Whose Beautiful Daughter Took Her On A Journey That Will Never End.

We are counting down now. We have just two days to go before Sarah's last chemo treatment. The days of this week now go like this...

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Chemo Day, Friday, Saturday, Sunday.

Sarah did an entry on her Caringbridge site last night. She is wondering about things. She is wondering about life after chemo. She is wondering if she will keep up her Caringbridge site. She is wondering if she will write every day. She is wondering what she will have to say.

As I thought about her wonderings, I thought about how chemo has been the main focus of the last several months. From the time Sarah was diagnosed with breast cancer, we knew she would undergo chemo to lessen her chances of recurrence and leave no stone unturned on this journey toward a cancer free future. Sarah has three little boys and it has all been for and about them.

So, what will post-chemo bring?

Post-chemo will bring new changes. We will have doctor appointments throughout the year. We will meet with the surgeon, the plastic surgeon and the oncologist. Sarah's reconstruction will continue for several months and will result in a day surgery to complete the process. Her hair will start growing back. The first hair will be baby hair and will fall out. Then her real hair will start growing in. It might be a different color. It might be curly. It might be straight. We don't know. She will be on a drug called Tamoxifen that she will take daily for five years. She will probably go into menopause because that is what chemo does.

Post-chemo will bring a life of its own. Once the side effects from the last chemo wear off it feels like we are going to be home free. My mind gets that. My body has been braced for so long that I think it will take a little while for my body to catch up with my mind.

As I sit here and write I catch myself taking deep breaths every now and then. I know I hold my breath. Eventually, I have to breathe. There the secret is out. Even Judy has to breathe now and then. I like to write. I figure out what I am feeling as I write. What I know for now is that I am counting days, holding my breath, waiting for Thursday to come and be over, hoping the side effects are as minor as they were after chemo number 3, looking forward to my mind and body being connected, and somehow knowing that as Sarah moves forward her story will go on. I know it will be a story of hope. It will be a story of survival.

For me, my story is one of gratitude. I don't let myself feel that very much. When I say the word gratitude, it makes me realize how lucky we are, and what could have happened. I don't think I have let myself feel that part yet. There has been too much to do.

There has been a loss in all of this. It has been a "felt" loss more than a real loss. Perhaps some of you understand what I am saying. There is grief where there is loss of any kind. I will write about grief someday. I think it is important. In order to move on, we need to feel the grief of even our "felt" losses.

Maybe I will name this post, "Ramblings Of A Mom Whose Beautiful Daughter Took Her On A Journey That Will Never End."

I just did.