Abe.

I've discovered that since getting an iPhone, I am taking way too many pictures on that and not so many "real" pictures on my camera. I did manage to scrounge these ones up of Abe, though and I just wanted to post a little update on him since he just turned four months old. His well-child checkup turned out well - he's 75% for height and 60% for weight, but he is anemic, so we have to supplement with iron drops and start him on rice cereal. He is currently taking milk through bottles from my beloved "pumping team" donors at church - we are trying to get him to six months without formula - almost there!! Abe gets very bored by himself - he definitely is a baby born into a big family and always wants his siblings or Mama and Papa sitting around playing with him.

Here is how I found my mom after I returned from my last chemo treatment - I love that she completely covered him up for his nap on her! He seemed to love it - Here he is this morning in his Bumbo seat - he was watching the boys play with Samuel's new birthday Legos. This is what happens around my house at 6 a.m..
This was his first rice cereal feeding (Colin had previously given him bites of our sweet potatoes at dinner and he loved them) - look how messy!
He didn't love it.
Colin and Samuel were playing cribbage here and Abe joined in the fun.
He tries to grab everything in front of him.
Oh, how I love his expressions!

Chemo Number Three

I had my third chemo session today and I am still a little foggy from all the drugs. And I am queasy. But even more than that? I am grateful. I am grateful that the same drugs attacking my stomach lining are also killing my cancer. I am grateful that not only was my chest X-ray ok, the doctor said "the mass that was there has now been resolved". I am grateful for the army of people praying for me (which is much farther reaching than I could ever hope). I am grateful that God, in all His mercy and love, has chosen to answer my fervent prayers with a "yes" and calmed my spirit when anxiousness welled up. And lastly, I am grateful to have been given my life back. I sleep in my own bed, next to my dear husband. Without scratching or night sweats. My body can relax without the tension of itchiness everywhere. I can wear whatever clothes I want. But mostly I have energy to love on my kiddos. Every day. All day.

A Leap of Faith

Not two hours ago, I was wrestling whether to call my oncology advice nurse. You see, I've been having some chest pressure for a few days now and I assumed it was either a cold or pressure from my tumors. The problem is that one of my chemo drugs can cause irritation to the lungs and is to be reported immediately to the doctor. But I didn't want to report it. I want my chemo to continue as usual. On the other hand, I really don't want permanent lung damage. But I do want to kick cancer out, effective immediately. And you can't do that without chemo, right? In the end, I called the advice nurse and found myself minutes later at the hospital getting a stat chest x-ray. Ugh. I knew that would happen. Before entering the hospital doors, however, I sat in my van, held my hand to my sternum (where my largest tumors are) and prayed. Hard. I prayed that God let this be a clear x-ray or something easy, like pneumonia (lol) and not a side effect of chemo. I had to put it all in His hands, you see, because ultimately, that is where my fate lies anyway, isn't it? I am to have my third treatment of chemo tomorrow morning at 7:30 and my prayer is that I get all four drugs. What a roller coaster this whole cancer things is. It's not a ride I would have chosen, but it is one I am learning a heck of a lot through.

And just to lighten things up - here is a uber cute picture of the kids, taken by the uber talented Mindy Strauss.

Juliet's Third Birthday

Juliet has been talking for a few weeks about her "pink" birthday. We weren't sure exactly where she came up with that, but I couldn't argue it was a great concept for a three year old girl =). So I headed to Target and grabbed every Hello Kitty party item I could find and then went home to make pink cupcakes (which by the way turned out terrible - never forego cake flour, if that's what the recipe calls for). We just had a few family members over for lunch and dessert, but she so enjoyed everyone singing and getting to blow out the candles. She's such a little girl now!

Here is Samuel lighting her cupcake:She loved hearing "Happy Birthday" sung to her.

Blowing it out!
And I had an excuse to buy her a pink flower arrangement from Costco. I always want to buy Costco flowers but never allow myself because I feel it needs to be a special occasion - this was the perfect opportunity to indulge!
I will never forget her crazy, hasty and scary entrance into the world three years ago! And she really hasn't slowed down since =).

Transitioning To Baldness.

Today I woke up and decided I needed to do something about my hair. I've been mentally letting go of it for three weeks now - training myself to focus on what's important, and let me tell you - hair isn't it right now. It's hard as a woman to remove that piece of identity. To just say goodbye to it for oh, five months or so. So instead of having it shaved (since my hair is just shedding lightly at this point), I dashed off to my local cheap haircut place and gingerly handed her a picture of Emma Watson and watched in horror as she lopped off all of my hair while telling me her mom died of breast cancer four years ago. Gulp. I kept telling myself that it isn't about my hair. It's about living. Surviving cancer.

When I arrived home, my sweet boys had shaved their head for me.

Samuel with his "Superman curl":Samuel shaving Papa's head:
My sweet bald boys.

Jude snapped this blurry photo of us. I will be wearing a lot of hats out and about now - I feel much less feminine already!

P.S. To soften the blow of cutting off all my hair today, I am wearing my fake lashes (even though I don't need them yet) and am loving every minute of it!

Cancer Changes Things.

I will never forget that first round of chemo when the nurse looked at me in the middle of our conversation, touched her hand to her heart and said "It changes you. You will never be the same again." And as I have rolled that idea over in my mind over the last three weeks, I find that it has become so true. I no longer hesitate to say "I love you" to someone perhaps I would have been scared to before. I don't hesitate to grab my husband's hand for no good reason. Giving that hug to a friend has become easier. You see, before I hesitated with intimacy for fear of rejection. Now when I think about it, what am I afraid of? I'm afraid of leaving this life without those around me knowing how much I love them, how much they mean to me. That's my real fear. I want my kids to know I am actually listening to their story. Even if it is the third time I have heard it today. Or that I care enough to answer that silly question - because I know it makes them feel accepted and loved. I'm learning to let there be crumbs under the table if that means I help Juliet get into yet her third dress for the day.

Yes, cancer has changed me already. The darkness of this disease has taught me to let go of the small things. To not take any person for granted. To linger over the sweet moments and truly appreciate them.

This verse spoke volumes to me yesterday:

"And I will give you the treasures of darkness and hidden riches of secret places, that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, Who calls you by your name." - Isiah 45:3

As it turns out, God doesn't hesitate to linger over and love on me either.

Round 2, Baby!

Today I completed my second of eight rounds of chemo (assuming we can shrink those naughty lymph nodes in eight treatments). You know what that means? I am 1/4 of the way done! And I will probably have to come back to this post for encouragement this week when my nausea sky rockets to a blinding level or when Colin finally has to break out the razor and shave my hair off. Yep, this week. Anticipating my hair falling out paired with nausea and my husband telling me my chest lymph nodes are the size of muffins took a real hit to my normally happy self this last round. Oh, and don't forget the itching. But then day 8 hit. The nausea subsided (as did my maniacal popping of a Valium-like drug to reduce said nausea) and I was blessed with energy that felt like I was on speed. All week Colin cared for all six people in this house - meals, dishes, laundry, bottles, holding the colicky baby, homeschooling, etc.. So I had about twenty four hours on this high, during which I grocery shopped, reacquainted with my kiddos (Colin even said "mama's back! You have been gone a long time". This broke my heart because I have missed out on so much since this cancer hit me but children are amazing in that they wait patiently with open arms and pick up where we left off) and stopped to enjoy that I could feel normal, if only for a little while. That night I paid for over doing it with almost losing my dinner, but then had four days of being totally normal like I haven't been in eight months. I crawled out of my pit of despair, decided that I won't die since this has like a 99 percent cure rate and am still there.

Which brings me to today. I had mixed feelings going into chemo today - its poison. But it's a cure. But I feel like I have been hit by a truck. But it's a cure. And I will lose my hair. Soon. But it's so toxic. So we roll into the oncology clinic behind a lady who was coughing/gagging so hard that I couldn't tell if she was puking (ew) or just coughing from lung cancer. I decided to close my heart and mind as much as possible at that moment out of sheer self-preservation. Then I get settled in my chair and a meth addict (actually speaking to the nurse about methadone and how it's not as constipating as OxyContin). Then he complained about his IV and is back hurting and wanting more pain meds. I almost strangled him- as though any of us is without pain? One of my chemo drugs takes sixty minutes to drip and it burns and aches in my vein the whole time. I felt like telling him to suck up and deal, but I held back. And yes, I am starting to sound jaded. It's a roller coaster, folks.

The bright shining moment we had today was meeting again our "Tuesday chemo buddies". It is an older couple, Angie and Don, in their late seventies. I gleaned from last time that things aren't going well because her blood counts are too low to do treatments very often, so she comes in for blood cell infusions. Being the good chemo patient that I am, I didn't ask her which cancer she has. Well today she asked me what I have and looked sad when I told her (which probably means she's never heard of it) and she shared that she has colon cancer. I fear her story will not end the same as mine and the glistening tears in her husbands eyes tell me likewise.

I feel strongly that God is calling me to him through all this cancer ordeal- that my journey that once could have taken a lifetime may now be condensed into five short months - spiritually speaking. "Becoming a rock solid Christian by Spring!"- it could be a book title. I have to admit I have been reading about Job and oddly enough find solace in that story. I may not be scraping boils with shards of clay, but I certainly do feel like I am being tested by Satan many times each day. Which is just a refining process to bring me back to God. And that's alright by me.

Kid Pics (Happy Post!)

Here are some recent pics of the kiddos:


Colin had the kids help him make pumpkin chocolate chip bars:
Sissy is always good at taste-testing batters. And look at those ringlets!!
Samuel loves to hold Abe!
Oh, my. I could eat up those cheeks! He looks so much like Samuel and Jude as babies.
We are working on his neck muscles - it's hard when he hates being on his tummy!
More cheeks. He's been getting a lot of Papa time now that I have started chemo. It's a good bonding time!
Jude - crazy, as always!