Sunday, April 10, 2011

when it rains, it pours

Two weeks of radiation down, 3 1/2 to go...........

When I made my plan on how I was going to approach radiation I said I would blog when things were fresh.........rather than hash them out a bit and then piece something together.  Believe it or not, I usually don't feel my posts are too raw....I think they are edited. But in that process I usually end up having to be emotional, and caught up in whatever it is that I am processing, for too this time I am going to try just putting it out there, no's like a projectile vomit blog--it just happened.....

I won't be able to be pregnant. I won't be able to give birth. Mommas and babies are my life, literally my job, my passion, my cause.  And it was taken away from me.  I am having a hard time getting passed this, or processing this, and then I have weeks where I feel fine. 

I am steadfast in knowing that you don't have to give birth to be a mom, that families are created by a wonderful mix of love, unconditional love that doesn't have to be biological. That family members can be people who you chose to bring into your world.

I am not sure the root of this fear, this disappointment I feel in am I going to continue to work with women in the same capacity, eventually someone is going to ask how many children I have. What was my birth experience like? How did I work through postpartum depression? I won't have the answer they are looking for.  I have this inner urge to mother, to supply the unconditional love.....I just can't double the estrogen in my body, my cancer feeds on estrogen.........that would be a selfish decision on my part.  I won't have a baby and increase my chance of cancer......Scott and our new family doesn't deserve that.  So I feel lost, like I am swimming and swimming in the dark.......unable to see the shore and I am getting tired.  My oncologist says "roll the dice," that women my age are encouraged to "have their families" and then "have your ovaries removed"............but I don't feel that "rolling the dice" is the way to start a family.

I know there is a life plan that I fit into, but I am pretty fucking sick of not knowing what it is.  My life is full of amazing people and I am driven and encouraged by them. I would do anything for Scott, and though we haven't discussed it, I am so sorry that because he chose me for his life partner he has to deal with all my baggage...............and my biology.

I feel alone.  I feel jealous.  Jealousy will eat away at your being, at who you are......comparisons are pointless.  I know this, professionally I know this, and personally I have never been someone who gives a shit what people think.  But I find myself comparing myself to others like I have never done before.  I feel damaged and not up to par....just not measuring up.  I am getting my mind back after chemo, my chemo brain is slowly fading and I am finding myself having an internal conversation that I haven't had before. It is unbelievably frustrating.  You would think that I would feel triumphant---I went through hell and back and I am here in one piece........but instead I am picking apart those pieces with a negative eye.................ridiculous.  As a whole, I am too hard on myself.  I know that negativity breeds more negativity so I try to focus my attention on the positive, but now, more than ever, the negativity is sneaking in.

I know it began when I had to chose radiation or not.  I went a few steps backward, but I made an informed decision that Scott and I both agreed on.  We powered through, which is what we do.  We are a couple that plans, we want data, we want to know how our life will look, we thought we knew....then we were slammed with the cancer truck.  Then we refocused, then radiation.  And now that is my job--doing my best to get through radiation, taking care of myself, and working out the kinks in my brain that cancer created.  It's messy.

So I am a hot mess.............literally, my radiated boob and armpit are on fire.


  1. Dori, you have every right to be angry and mourn what was taken away from you so unfairly! it is not fair! and experiencing those feelings, does not make you a lesser anything in my eyes! You are a strong and amazing woman, dealt a really shitty hand! I wish I could change the cards, but I can only tell you that I believe in you and see you kicking this cancer's ass! once and for all! I love and appreciate your honesty! thank you for keeping it real!

  2. I just wanted to say that I love you and that even though we have never met and I live a billion miles away from you, I am holding you in my arms and we are crying together.

  3. You're not alone! There are lots of us out there feeling like you do. That may be cold comfort, but I hope not. Keep powering through, bitch & moan as needed, and remember you're stronger than you know.

  4. Dori, I don't have any kids, maybe never will for various reasons (I'm already 35, as well). I have learned after a lifetime of supporting mothers, of being the "little mama" as a kid and then doula as a woman, that women want allies more than anything else. They don't seem to care so much about if you have kids yourself - at least in my experience. Some do, this is true. BUt I'd say most don't. If they like you, they like you. But I used to be SO insecure and dread people asking me if I had kids, like, doula clients. I have had so many women "pishaw" me when I brought up this insecurity. Even mothers with tons of children. Another thing I always think about is-- most people who deliver babies are male--who also have never given birth. one of my friends was like "whatevs, I've had 3 cesareans, so I don't know what it's like to give birth naturally. Just do it Jenni, I'd hire you !" (When I explained why I was scared to be a doula.) And my sis in law said having a woman who hadn't given birth would possibly be preferable, because then there's no comparisons going on.
    Women seem to me to want that person who cares, who is interested, who they feel a connection to. You are so connectable and your life experience so deep and vast. You know the preciousness of life, the fleetingness, the depth. THat's doula-gold. I just wanted to hopefully encourage you w/that. Beyond that though, I'm so sorry. So shitty. Thank you for sharing as and prayers, Jenni Jenni