Bloom where you are planted.

Om (noun): The whole universe in one single word. The union of mind, body, and spirit.

Deep breath in.

Exhale.

Om.

Repeat.

Life is busy. Even before my diagnosis, life was busy. I currently stay at home with my two children, ages 2 and 3 1/2. For any other mothers (and fathers) out there, you know how draining, and wonderful, and chaotic that can be. One day is set aside for grocery shopping and laundry, another day is preschool and music class, then there's story time and Christmas shopping, errands and doctor's appointments, and the list goes on. I enjoy spending time with my kids, I do. I just have a hard time when all of these things are crammed into one day. The other problem is that when we try to have down time at home, it tends to leave us with hitting, fighting, constant redirection, and headaches. So, most days we try to get out of the house...

Since my diagnosis, I have wondered how much easier it would be to go through chemo treatment without my kids. I wouldn't need to plan for people to come over every day to make sure they are taken care of. I could sleep in as long as I want to. I would have a quiet house all to myself. Then, I recognized that these two lights in my life are exactly what keep me going. They get me out of bed in the morning, they give me energy when I didn't think I had any, and their little voices remind me that life is worth fighting for.

In the hustle and bustle of parenting, though, anyone can tell you that it is important to dedicate some time for yourself. Get out of the house, alone, and do something for yourself. Get your nails done, get a massage, pick up a hobby, go to the gym, just go for a drive! It doesn't have to be every day, because it's hard enough to make it happen once a week, but at least try to pencil it in your calendar to do something for you.

For me, this used to be running. It helped when the weather was warmer and I was a bit healthier, but I would get out and run four times a week. It was time by myself. I didn't have a diaper bag with me or a toddler on my hip. I didn't need to pack any goldfish or applesauce pouches. All I needed was my running shoes and a hair-tie. Sometimes, I would keep going simply because I didn't want to go home just yet (Is that bad?). Before my first treatment, I made it to 10 miles. My goal was 5 that day, because I didn't think my body could handle much more after learning about my cancer, but I started, and just kept going. I'm so happy I did it, too, because since then, I've only gone out once. I learned that my heart had a hard time keeping up, and I'm afraid to push it too much. I listened to my body and took a break from my summer passion.

Several weeks have passed since I last exercised, which means several weeks have passed since I last took some healthy time for myself. Sure, I've run an errand here and there without any kids in tow, but I needed more. Last week, I experienced my first, true yoga experience. It was exactly what I needed (and perhaps what you need, too). I was out of the house, yes, but more importantly I was in a relaxing space and able to release any tension I had inside of me - physically and emotionally.

When I decided to try out yoga, I had no idea where to go. So, who do I turn to when I need answers? Google. I came across a place called "Bloom Yoga Fitness Studio". It wasn't too far away, and the prices seemed reasonable, so I took a risk and signed up for a drop-in class. When I got there, I was alone, but I was immediately greeted by the friendly staff and met my instructor. She showed me where to put my things, and what equipment I needed. When I was hanging up my coat, I realized I only had on my warm winter hat. I wasn't about to go through the class with that on, so I rocked the bald look! It's funny, when I'm out in public and I take my hat off, it feels as if I'm stripping down naked. I don't know if it's because it automatically reveals my cancer or because it's a part of my body that no one has seen in 28 years, but either way it makes me feel extremely vulnerable. When I excused my 'bald head' to my instructor, she asked if I was going through chemotherapy, to which I responded 'yes'. She reassured me that I looked beautiful and told me about her friend who was just about to start her own chemo journey. I quickly felt much better about my self-image and walked into the class with 10x more confidence.

The lights were dimmed the slightest bit and there was soothing music playing. Six other women were sitting on their mats and I found my spot in between two other ladies. The instructor came in and lightly greeted everyone with a generic "How is everyone doing?" We all responded "Good" and we began. Deep breath in. Exhale. Om. Repeat. I was relaxed. For the first time in a long time, I was focusing on myself. I was focusing on the most basic thing I could do with my body - my breathing. My body was moving and I was able to stretch out these muscles that have been resting for too long. It felt amazing. It was the last five minutes and our instructor told us to lay down on our mats to get ready for  Shavasana, or corpse pose. She turned the lights off. The only light in the room was coming through the left door's window, and the song "Be Still" by Sophia came on. All we needed to do was lay there. Lay still with our palms up, completely relax our muscles and breathe. I laid there in the dark while tears streamed down my cheeks. I was breathing. I was alive. I was one with my mind, body, and spirit. My whole self was in that room and I was not worried about anything else. I like to think that they were happy tears, as if it was a complete release of any negativity inside of me. I wiped my eyes dry just as the lights came back on. We sat up on our mats with our legs crossed. Deep breath in. Exhale. Om. Repeat.

Class was over, and I walked out of there feeling absolutely refreshed. I went back again tonight and plan on making it a weekly routine. Cancer will not prevent me from living my life as normally as possible, but if it weren't for cancer, I don't know if I would have ever taken the risk to practice yoga. This disease continues to test me and I continue to prove how much stronger I am than it is. I am learning more about myself everyday, and for that, I am grateful.

Namaste.

Making Reason

Everything happens for a reason.

There is a reason for everything.

Make reason in everything.

I'm not saying I necessarily believe in fate. I'm not even saying that there's necessarily a puppeteer up above, making all of these things happen around us. Regardless, everything happens...and it is up to us to decide how to reason it.

You don't question the good stuff as often, but when the bad stuff rolls around, you always end up asking yourself, at least once, "why me?" It is up to you to answer that question the right way. This is not a time for you to start pointing fingers or blaming yourself. What did you do wrong? Not a damn thing. But you know what you're about to do right? Instead of finding everything you possibly did wrong in the past, you're going to focus on the good things that are coming in the future.

Every time you do something you wouldn't have otherwise done if it weren't for this 'bad stuff' going on in your life, you're going to be grateful for it. Every time you meet a new person, or reconnect otherwise lost relationships, you're going to be grateful. Even places you've gone before, that you're just able to see in a different light because of this 'bad stuff' that may be going on, be happy that you were lucky enough to experience the 'bad stuff'. Without the 'bad stuff', let's face it, we wouldn't have any 'good stuff' to compare it to.

Life is all about balance. There was a time in college when I wasn't all that balanced. I was focusing on the negative things in my life without being able to find the positivity in much of anything. My close friend had died in an awful car accident, another friend had attempted suicide, and my parents were going through a divorce all within my last year of high school. Let me tell you, I spent plenty of time questioning "why me?" I felt as though I had lost control of everything. My life was spinning around me and I didn't know who was going to be there when it stopped. I wallowed in self-pity. I cried. I bled. I starved. I screamed. Then, I finally started to see the light in all of the darkness.

I met my husband through all of this. Most days, it was him guiding me to see this light, and, now, I am grateful for that 'bad stuff' that happened. Our relationship wouldn't be what it is if it weren't for that 'bad stuff'. We would go for hikes, have secret rendezvous in the library, devour bowls of ice cream...all which seemed like little things, but it's those little things that bring the brightest light. Now, the two littlest in our lives, a girl age 3 and a boy age 2, are the brightest lights of all. And now I am forever grateful.

I would've thought, with my depressive past, I would have been more sad about my diagnosis. I was almost scared that I would fall back into that state of darkness. But, now, I think that it is because of all I experienced that senior year of high school, that I remain to be so positive. When you are forced to confront death at such a young age, you quickly learn how precious life is. Most 17-year-olds think they're invincible. They think they can do anything without consequence (or at least nothing more than being grounded). Just two days after I turned 17, I was told that I was never going to see my friend again. Never again hear her laugh or see her smile. It was in that moment, that I really grew up. I learned that I was not invincible, and neither was anyone else. I also developed a new way of viewing the world around me. Since then, I try not to take much for granted, because I have witnessed how it can all be taken away in just a brief moment. Now, my diagnosis just further etches this view of life I have, but I've been through hardships before and I persevered. I know what I am capable of and I know how strong I am. I know that it is through positivity that I will come out of this alive.

Cancer is what is happening right now in my life and I am finding a reason every damn day. A reason to love deeper and hug a little tighter. A reason to move more on my good days and rest more on my not-so-good ones. A reason to reach out to that friend I haven't talked to in too long. A reason to try yoga because I've always wanted to, but never committed. A reason to enjoy the tacos today because my sense of taste, today, is somewhat normal.  A reason to have a dance party with my kids while I have the energy. A reason to smile, simply because I still can.

Hey, I wouldn't be writing this blog and connecting with you if it weren't for cancer, right?

Me & Andrew, Sleeping Giant (2009)

Chemo 1, 2, 3...

First day of chemo was upon us. I found myself looking in the mirror more often, trying to engrave what I look like into my brain. I was afraid I was going to lose it, that view of myself with my nice skin, a big smile with a few wrinkles, long blonde hair. I tried to envision what I was going to look like in the months to come. Isn't it funny how vain we can be? I was just diagnosed with an incurable disease that could kill me, and I'm worried about what I look like...

I quickly got over the thought of me being bald. I've rocked a pixie style before, and I like to think I have a good amount of confidence to move past the hair loss. The nurses offered a special cap I could wear to possibly save 70% of it, but it would prolong my treatment by a couple of hours each time and sounded pretty uncomfortable. For me, it just wasn't worth it. It's only temporary, and it'll be one less thing to worry about in the morning!

I decided to invite my friend of 25 years over to do the big chop. The kids were home, which was good, so they could watch it happen and not be totally shocked! Meredith tied it up in a bunch of little ponytails and snipped away. It was so empowering! I felt fabulous and TOTALLY ready for my first round of chemo the next morning. I felt like I was putting on my warrior makeup, ready to fucking fight! This cancer bitch did not know who she was messing with!

Round #1 went very smoothly. I went with my husband, Andrew, and it was actually kind of nice just the two of us without the kids. We were able to spend quiet time together, playing cards, fiddling on our phones, and watching TV. I was in a recliner, he was in a less comfortable chair, and we were sitting in front of a bunch of nurses stations, but it wasn't so bad! We got there for about 8:30am and didn't get home until 4:30pm or so. They wanted to administer the medications a bit slower the first time, hoping to avoid any allergic reactions. Everything went well, so next time they promised a more private room...yay!

Three weeks later, I had Chemo #2! My sister, Stephanie, was able to fly up from Atlanta to come with me which was super sweet. Again, it was nice spending quality time with her without our kids around! We love our kids, but adult conversation without interruptions is also good once in a while! I spent a lot of time coloring, we chatted about family and holidays coming up, and she was able to get some work done. They administered the first two medications just fine. About five minutes after they started the third med, Taxotere, I started feeling odd. There was a weird feeling through my abdomen running from my belly button to my chest. I stopped my sister to tell her to grab the nurse. From the time it took her to step out of the room to tell the nurse just outside, and come back in, it went from being a small feeling in my abdomen to taking over my entire upper body. My chest and face were extremely tight and hot, I was having a hard time breathing, and I was seeing spots. Right then and there, for a split second, I thought I was dying. I thought for sure that this poison they were putting inside me was killing me. I tried not to panic, took long deep breathes, and closed my eyes. The nurses stopped the med, gave me a steroid, put me on oxygen, and administered a nebulizer. Within a couple minutes, I was feeling much better. Okay, good, I wasn't dying....I turned to my sister and said "Don't tell Mom about this!"... Unfortunately, I lost the private room privilege after this. Damn.

After the reaction scare, the rest of my second treatment went well! They slowed down the Taxotere and worked their way back up again to where it needed to be. I was able to enjoy the rest of my sister's visit that night before she had to fly back home the next morning. Three weeks later, and it was already time for Chemo #3! It was just after Thanksgiving so the timing was perfect! I was feeling great and able to really enjoy all that comes with this wonderful holiday! The food was fantastic and we were able to spend time with all of our family as normally as possible. My friend Jackie came down from New Hampshire that Sunday to join me in my next treatment. It was so special to have her here with me and I knew she would be a great person to have by my side, especially if anything went wrong like last time. It's always reassuring having another nurse next to me! Again, the first two meds went just fine, and then they started the Taxotere. Since I had a reaction before, they started me slow and were going to work me back up. Well, they started me slow and I STILL had another reaction. What the hell?? It definitely wasn't as bad as before, but I was starting to feel that chest tightness again. They stopped the med, gave me a steroid, and started even slower. After that, I was fine. Next time, the plan is to just give me a steroid along with my other pre-meds to hopefully prevent the reaction all together.... we will see!

And just like that, I have Chemo 1, 2, AND 3 in the books!!! Whoaa we're halfway there! (Thank you Bon Jovi!)