June 16th, marked the anniversary of my surgery to remove my uterus. Honestly, that sentence doesn’t make me feel at all sexy, but I no longer feel embarrassed, and I no longer feel like less of a person. I remember all of the stress, fear and anxiety leading up to that day. How far had the cancer progressed? What if, like my mother, I am never well again? What if I have the surgery and it turns out that I didn’t have cancer? Will men see me differently…judge me…be less attracted to me?
The days before my surgery, I remember not sleeping, and I remember feeling embarrassed.
That seems crazy to me now. Pathetic…really.
My mother died of a horrible cancer. What I saw in her last days still grips me with agony and sorrow. From the day that she told us she was sick until the last night that she lived on Earth, I prayed for her to get better, for her to be with me for many years to come to help me raise Brainy Bird and Little Chirp. On the morning after that last night, she cried out in pain, inconsolable pain. I hardly recognized her frail, dying body. That morning, I prayed that God would take her away from me. I prayed for her pain to go away. I let go of the need of my own comfort in having her with me, and I begged God for her comfort. I held her hand while I prayed, and I felt her let go of our world. No, I didn’t see a bright shining light. I saw the body of a woman that I almost didn’t recognize. I felt sick and beyond sad. Then I felt a warmth in side of me, as if just for a moment, she came back to embrace me.
My surgery two years ago, means that I will never suffer the same fate as my mother. I hate that it has taken me so long to recover from my surgery, both emotionally and physically. One would think that after the strength my mother showed in her immense suffering that I would have been stronger. If my mother had been in my shoes, she would have easily out done me.
Nonetheless, I am well on my way to recovery. My emotional recovery hasn’t been the result of my own strength or the relationship with a man that accepted me as I am. Instead, my recovery is the result of prayer, and the blessing of friendships with amazing women – my sister, my two farm cousins, Sunshine, Banana, K, Em, HonestGirl, BostonBound, and Earth Mom. Along with the amazing women in my life is the blessing of friendships with real men, my best male friend – TriviaMaster, my closest professional male confidant – Herby, MiamiGuy, and of course, the brother and the brother’s best friend.
Some of these friendships are people that my mother knew and adored for a long time, and some are those that my mother never got to meet. All are friendships with incredible people that my mother would cherish with me if she were here today.
Today, I am healthy; I feel strong, and I feel confident with myself.
My memories of great times with Mom are endless. The day that I felt that she was the most proud was the day that I crossed the finish line at my first marathon. That day seemed impossible. I know she was really worried about me. I will never forget the signs that she and Brainy Bird made to support me along the way. They meant EVERYTHING to me. To this day, I am obsessed with the signs of encouragement as I run along in a marathon.
This blog began with the biggest physical challenge that I have ever conquered (the MS150). It is time for a new challenge. I want to cross the finish line of the 2015 San Antonio Marathon in 4 hours and 15 minutes. Just finding the finish line will be a big challenge. I want to grab a shower after, and then toast with my amazing friends in my Mom’s honor, let’s have a toast to – the finish line, to the unbreakable bonds of honest friendships, and the triumphs and trials of life. Some will run with me, some will carry me, some will join me in their own goal setting for the full or half marathon, and some will be there to support the rest of us getting to the finish line. I will call all of them mine.