Monday, May 4, 2009

Faking it

I wish I was one of those valiant types that got all stoic and strong in the face of adversity. But I'm not. Today is my first day alone with the kids since I found out. Michael happened to be on vacation last week.

This is a hard day.

Incidentally, before I forget -- tomorrow I see surgeon number two, in NYC. If I don't post I'll be sure to on Weds.

Yesterday, for a little while, I was playing with Daniel and making him laugh and he looked at me with a big smile and said, "Mama happy." That is what he -- is what he needs. He needs me to be happy and calm, or at least to seem that way. If he is to lose so much he needs to at least see his same old Mama, that normal woman of barely more than a month ago.

It's not that my son has never seen me cry, he has and is typically very sweet. But the past month I've cried to varying degrees every day...several times a day. And since the 27th, since my diagnosis, well, I think I've been crying more of the time than not. His Daddy has been home since I found out, so Daniel has felt safe and turned to him. Which is good, truly, but heartbreaking for me...and thus more tears flow.

I also think that my hormones from the weaning process are out of whack...weaning can be a bit like post partum depression from what I've heard.

Anyway, yesterday Daniel was crying because he wanted to go outside but it was raining. I went to comfort him and he wouldn't come near me, he looked at me like he hated me and screamed at me when I asked if I could pick him up. He only wanted Daddy, even though it was actually Daddy that had said no. He wanted no part of me for hours. I crumpled and wept. I even begged him, yes, even tried to bribe him into coming and giving me a hug or sitting next to me. It was not my finest moment motherhood wise, I know. I so desperately needed to feel forgiven by him that I couldn't keep perspective.

I decided a little rain would hurt neither of us compared to the pain we both seemed to be in and so we went outside. He let me carry him because he didn't like the wet grass, let me hold his hand, and let me pick him a dandelion. Later in the day I put on a sock and started doing puppet antics and he giggled...that's when he said, "Mama happy" and it clicked.

Just how much crying is one very little boy supposed to empathise with? He needs me to be happy.

So now instead of coming in the back room here and there throughout the day to write, I come here to cry. Then I go back out and smile at him. Today I am pretending to be happy. I'm pretending my ass off. It is exhausting beyond belief, but it seems to be working. He is happier than I've seen him all week, and he sat on my lap and pet me and told me he loves my "booful hair".

Oh, and I'll be crazy gluing a wig to my head when mine falls out.


Chuck Dilmore said...

thank you for this!

kids teach us
at least as much
as we teach them.

with a touch or look or syllable
they affect the deepest part of us!
they help us even out life's terrain.

somehow, they are prophets!

and we... we have you on our minds.

La Belette Rouge said...

Oh, honey, no need for valor. Cry and cry and cry all day long. It is so hard for all of you. Gosh, this seems even harder than stopping breast feeding. If I were you I might have gone into extreme bribing. "Hug mommy and I will take you to ToysRus."

I think it is important to for him to know that you are so happy with him and you are sad at cancer. It is hard and maybe impossible for him to understand now but her will.

You do have booful hair and you will have it again.

Hugs and love to you.
p.s. I will be thinking of you tomorrow and looking for your post.

Jean said...

Hey, if you don't feel stoic then that's ok. Cry, wail, rant, vent...whatever you need to do right now.

It breaks my heart to read your sad, sad words. Your little boy will always love you, and you will always be booful in his eyes.

Good luck with Doc number 2, hope he/she has a better bedside manner than number 1. Thinking of you, oh booful one.

Mervat said...

Children do teach us so much. In telling you he wants you to be happy, Daniel is just expressing a basic need. In being happy for him, smiling for him, remember that you are also releasing endorphins, those feel-good hormones. I hope that you can actually *feel* some positivity amidst all of this pain, sadness and hurt.

You boy's words are so wise and indeed booful.

I sincerely hope that Doc #2 is approachable and nice - at the very least!

Much love and hugs to you dear friend.

Erica said...

Even if you are not stoic you are definitely valiant! The fact that you are so intent on being strong for your children just shows what a wonderful, beautiful mother you are!

I hope the doctor tomorrow is a better fit for you...I'll be thinking of you!

~Tessa~Scoffs said...

Ah Jeez. This one got me like no other. Now I'm crying. Kayleigh, you are one tough momma. And Daniel is lucky to have you. Hair or no hair.

Brenda said...

The thing is, we all handle it differently. Some of us cry and some of us are stoic. I imagine its so much harder with young children.

I'll be thinking of you tomorrow at the doctors. A friend just loaned me a couple of books with stories about how other women dealt with breast cancer. Let me know if you want the titles.

Jane said...

I wear my heart on my sleeve and there is no way I could pretend to be happy if I wasn't. You are a miracle mum.
But it's OK to cry too.
If you want to.

Goober said...

I'm so sorry about your diagnosis. My thoughts are with you. You are a wonderful woman and mother.

Anonymous said...

You will be in my thoughts and prayers. I want to give you a big hug!