by Band Back Together | Jun 24, 2011 | Anger, Breast Cancer, Cancer and Neoplasia, Caregiver, Coping With Cancer, Family, Feelings, Guilt, Stress, Trauma, Trust |
i’ve written before about my love hate relationship with the pump… well, mostly about the hate portion. its rhythmic sucking makes me sing little songs to its always irritating tempo. then they mix around with the gymboree songs already stuck in my head. then i realize how badly i really do need the prozac and ativan.
i don’t know for sure how long it’s going to last. i’m trying to be realistic about the prospect of having cancer, undergoing chemo and pumping for (hopefully only) six months. it’s kind of like starting out nursing. i tried to limit my expectations of myself. i said i’d aim for six months and then see if i could go for a year. that seemed ridiculously long to me at the time, much like pumping for six months does now. but a year came and went and well, here we are.
my husband, nugget daddy, stayed down at my parents’ last night so nugget and i have been left to fend for ourselves for the majority of the past two days, save for a playdate and lasagna drop off yesterday afternoon.
i didn’t get to pump at all yesterday. i can’t pump in front of my daughter, nugget. that would be like asking your pregnant best friend to take you to happy hour. i meant to pump last night once she went to sleep, but i fell asleep, too. my boobs had been angry ever since.
nugget likes to have her naps with me, but this limits my options for the duration of naptime as to what i can actually accomplish with twenty pounds of sleeping toddler strapped to my chest, lovely though as she feels snuggled against me. her grandmamie puts her to sleep in the stroller and i bribed her into it with chocolate chips this afternoon so i could pump, finally, and subsequently blog about it. lucky you!
i was so angry the first few times i pumped after starting chemo. it was like rubbing salt in the wounds. i couldn’t nurse nugget and i had to stand uncomfortably in the bathroom watching my milk fill up plastic bottles instead of a happy baby. and then as i would dump the ounces of heartache down the sink a new wound would appear like a gaping mouth to catch my salty tears and sting my aching soul. what a waste.
you won’t find much if you google “cancer” and “breastfeeding” except for articles about nursing after breast cancer. “chemo” and “breastfeeding” yields the same contraindication tagline over and over, and “cancer” and “breastmilk” mostly just points you to article after article about this guy who drank breastmilk to fight his prostate cancer. those, mostly sensational and local news, articles mention milk banks selling milk to cancer patients when they have excess available to sell. it costs $3 an ounce.
i’ve had plenty of time to think about that guy and those $3 ounces while making up songs to the pump’s rhythm and calculating how much i’d just poured down the drain. warning! here comes the crunchy freaky part. squee! maybe you want to stop reading, uptight next door neighbor guy or old school grandpa, maybe there’s a golf game you’d rather be watching. okay, so seriously, why the fuck would i want to keep dumping my milk down the drain when other cancer patients are paying good money to get their hands on it? i don’t know what exactly it might do for me, but it sure won’t be doing anything at the bottom of the sink that’s for sure. so i sucked it up and sucked it down.
it was sort of gross at first, though why exactly i’m not sure. i think it was the temperature. i can’t think of any beverage i regularly consume at body temperature. but now i’m used to it and pleased by thought that i might actually be doing something to help save my own life.
so, now i have a new goal. i want to pump twice a day for the whole six months, or however long it might be. i know i might get sick. i know i might have to stop if i do. but if i approach it the way i did breastfeeding, then maybe i can make it through. maybe if i tell all of you about my plan then i’ll be hell-bent on reaching my goal. maybe some mother out there trolling the interwebs for a glimmer of hope will find my blog now, instead of all the other useless crap i found.
by Band Back Together | Dec 24, 2010 | Coping With Losing A Partner, Hope, Jealousy, Loneliness, Partner/Spouse Loss, Stress, Trauma |
…from the woman with the dead husband.
Not going to be happy and light, right? Well, you just never know.
This is my 5th Xmas without my love. He was a Xmas maniac, loved everything about it. Our house was lovingly dubbed (by me) the Xmas whorehouse, since it was so covered in lights and knick-knacks and crap, it was amazing we could even live in it; but we did, and loved it. Each year my husband lovingly put together a CD of Xmas music that we used as our card/gift. He collected Xmas music, you see, and, the more awful it was, the better…he LOVED bad Xmas music as much as he loved good. We had a lot of talented friends, so each year we’d also include one cut on the CD that someone we knew sang. The year Tom died I made one, final CD. It had a few really fun cuts on it, it had to, but it was mostly sad, aching, and a tribute to Tom. I included 3 songs that he sang on it, and every year, including this one, it catches me up short to hear his beautiful voice. I decorate the house and the tree (way less whorishly) and listen to the CD’s and have my self a merry little sobfest, replete with alcoholic beverage of my choice and a box of Kleenex.
It’s very hard on our son too. I think this year has been a little better because he is working at something he loves, and is working a LOT of hours. When he gets home though, he tends to close himself in his room and play piano, mostly sad, indie dirges he either writes himself or has learned to play. It’s good, it’s how he handles his feelings.
He’s the one who actually puts up the tree and lights it. That used to be Tom’s job, and then I’d decorate. But now it’s fallen to the wonder-boy, and he bitches and moans all the way through the process; his own little sobfest.
I miss him. I miss him so very much, more than I can express. He was my guy, and there is a vast, gaping hole where he was.
And so often I rail against the unfairness of it. It is so unfair that MY husband had to die! It is so shitty that MY kid has to live without a father, had to be a teen without a father. On and on and on…I could go on forever about the unfairness of it. About the goddamn WHY-ME-ness of it.
Lately, however, there has been this little, insistent-but-kind voice in my head asking me “why NOT you? What makes you so special that bad things aren’t supposed to happen in your life. Look around, look on this board you’re writing on, everyone on here has earned the right to SCREAM why me! Why are you not supposed to be going through this? Who of your friends would be a better choice?” maybe it’s just insistent and not so kind, that asshole voice!)
And, I’ve gotta say, I’m starting to listen, at least a little bit. I’m trying to measure my bitterness by tsp vs. tbsp. I’m looking around and seeing that others have it bad too, maybe worse.
I am sad still…grief doesn’t go away, it just is. Xmas is a hard time for me, and then in January it’s the dead date, so… I miss him. I’d kill to have our old life back. That’s all the truth, and has been for the (almost) 5 years he’s been dead.
But the house looks beautiful, and my siblings and their kids will come over on Xmas Eve, as usual. And I have a wonderful son and a great present for wonder boy this year that I’m so excited to give him. I had the best husband and the greatest love that I could ever wish for…why not me for all of that too?
Because that little voice is also there to remind me of the good things, if I listen.
And that’s my Christmas post, and with it comes hugs and love and peace for everyone here on Band Back Together (another one of the good things I have to remember).
by Band Back Together | Dec 23, 2010 | Healing From A Rape or Sexual Asault, How To Cope With A Suicide, Rape/Sexual Assault, Sadness, Shame, Stress, Suicide, Trauma |
You had been my friend for 13 long years when you raped me.
You were my best friend’s husband, my son’s god-father.
You were someone I always trusted and could count on.
That one fateful night we were hanging out at Downtown Disney and I got drunk I told you I didn’t want any more, but you kept buying shots. Looking back now, I see this was your plan. I passed out on the way home, only to wake up with you on top of me. I tried to push you off, screaming NO and fighting to push you off me, but you just covered my mouth and told me to shut the fuck up and that you knew I wanted it too.
I passed out again.
The next thing I knew, I woke up in the morning next to my husband. I knew what had happened the night before. I heard your wife out in the kitchen with your kids and my son.
I tried to forget, tried to pretend nothing happened. I tried to go on with my life, but my marriage fell apart for various reasons.
Years have gone by. Six to be exact.
Then I get a phone call from your wife. She is crying and upset. She fills me in on the past year, that you guys were having problems. Then she drops the bomb – you had killed yourself.
Now I feel like I can’t tell anyone what happened. To tell your wife, one of my closest friends, would ruin her and tear apart our friendship. It has been too long to tell anyone else. So now I must live with this.
You have forever changed me. I can’t trust people anymore, even those closest to me. I am glad you are gone. As selfish as it is, I am glad you are not a constant reminder of that bad moment in my life.
by Band Back Together | Dec 12, 2010 | Anger, Anxiety, Breast Cancer, Cancer and Neoplasia, Caregiver, Compassion, Coping With Cancer, Fear, Feelings, Loneliness, Love, Sadness, Stress, Trauma |
I’m sorry. Right now, I cannot be a good friend. I am not a good wife or daughter, sister, neighbor, niece or cousin. I love you. I appreciate everything you do for me and for my family. But for now, everything I have, every smile I can eke out, every happy moment, belongs to my daughter. I can’t give you what you want, not today and maybe not tomorrow either. I don’t have enough for you.
My fear is all-consuming. I am endlessly treading its dark waters. Your well-intended positivity crashes into me, knocking me down before washing back out to sea. Your genuine, heartfelt words of hope leave me salty-eyed, gasping for air, bracing for the next wave of “You’re so strong!” or “Kids are so resilient!”
Your generous offers to help are not falling on deaf ears, but I’m afraid my desperate cries for it are. I can hear you happily proposing your casseroles, a walk in the park, an eager ”whatever you need!” I’m sure one day I will very much need those things. Today I just need simple kindness, compassion, companionship. I need you to hug me and hold my hand. I need you to stop worrying about the tasks on your list and just be with me, sit here and keep my head above water.
I realize nothing about this is convenient for you. I know the closer you are to me, the deeper the water, the stronger current. I’m sorry that you’re being pulled in, challenged, diverted from your regularly scheduled life. But this is my nightmare and sadly, you’re in it.
so bite your tongue,
you’re not the only one
who’s been let down.
by Band Back Together | Dec 11, 2010 | Infidelity, Jealousy, Stress, Trauma, Trust |
There is nothing worse than knowing that the man you are supposed to spend the rest of your life with has betrayed you.
I still have the wrath of a betrayed woman.
You see, I’ve been through more than one betrayal. I’ve experienced one too many affairs in my short marriage, but I have managed to rebuild that broken trust over and over again. I have forgotten the pain over and over until one day it’s all too late and everything finally shatters to pieces.
Now I can smile. I am thankful that after nearly 7 months of trying to find a job after leaving the corporate world, after moving halfway across the world to be with that man with whom I thought was going to grow old with, I can finally smile again.
But tucked inside me is that bitter feeling that still pops up once in awhile.
There are always those little things that kick me in the gut. Things hurt like seeing other mixed couples and the way I seethe with jealousy inside thinking, “Let’s see how long this guy will stay faithful to his wife,” to a simple song that used to be ‘ours’ or just going to the places we went as a family.
Memories have been shattered. Dreams that were never fulfilled. A son lost the family he know. Broken and bruised – that’s how I still feel underneath all my smiles and laughter.
The pain is so unbearable sometimes that even when I think that I’m used to it, it sneaks in on me and ambushes me when I least expect it.
When I look at those young girls clinging to their boyfriends, I wonder how many of these guys ditched their families the way mine did. It pains me to see how some women have no respect whatsoever for themselves or their children.
How could he walk out on my son and I? The two who have been there for him? Granted, I wasn’t eligible for Wife Of The Year, but I did try my hardest and bent over backwards to save what was left of the marriage. Yet when I think about how one-sided the ‘repair work’ was or how much he had mentally checked himself out, I was left with no more strength.
My heart breaks for my son who hasn’t seen his father in months. His father is too drunk from lust for this much-younger woman so he never even calls his son. In the past 8 months, he has only called his son once and that’s because I begged him to.
Being betrayed by my husband with a younger woman felt like a slap! It crushed my self-esteem.
If she was beautiful maybe that would be a different story, but she will always be ugly in my eyes, not only because of her looks but because of her behaviors. She knew he was married and still went after him. She’s milking him like there’s no tomorrow, from having him pay for her online school, to opening up an online travel business, down to paying to set up her business website. He did it all while he said he couldn’t spare any money to pay for my son’s preschool.
If she was smart, maybe that would be a different story but it felt like a yet another blow reading her poorly constructed, doesn’t-even-make-any-sense English. How on Earth are they communicating? Is he able to carry out the same kind of discussions he and I used to?
It wasn’t until one of my close friends told me that he’s not looking for someone beautiful or smart. He picked someone who is much less than me so he could feel superior. It feeds his ego. Is that true? I don’t know. All I know is she’s a much younger girl, almost young enough to be his daughter and she’s single. She’s also tiny and petite!
But knowing how he had repeatedly cheated on me and on his first wife (yes, I called the ex and we compared stories which were shockingly similar) then it’s only a matter of time before he gets the itch to cheat again. This time, I will not fall victim!
It may take years to really mend myself from within, but I’ll take that road rather than driving myself to the loony bin with all the lies and deceptions.
by Band Back Together | Dec 7, 2010 | Child Loss, Coping With Losing A Child, Grief, Help For Grief And Grieving, Loss, Sadness, Stress, Sudden Unexplained Death in Childhood, Trauma |
Holidays have not been easy for me for a long time due to family issues between my wife and my parents. That was unpleasant but tolerable. Details of that are completely different story.
Bringing our first and only child into the world helped. I could now find joy in watching him open his gifts on Christmas morning, seeing the same joy in his eyes that I felt as a kid during the holiday season.
We had the same ritual for 4 years – stress over the holidays, money, buying gifts and so on. But it was all worth it to watch Kaden open his gifts and enjoy Christmas.
This year the holidays have gone back to “full suck mode.” You see, our beloved only child of almost 5 years old passed away in January 2010 of unknown causes. Doctors are unable to explain exactly why the life of our child was taken from us so suddenly.
I never thought anything could change your life more than bringing a child into the world. I now know that losing that child changes your life even more. Life continues on around you but somehow you are unable to keep up. The same problems, and struggles you had before are now magnified by the constant pain, sorrow and discomfort in your heart.
Going through our first holiday season without Kaden is really taking its toll on us as well as our entire family. Some people understand why we don’t want to leave the house to visit friends and family and gather for holidays just like we used to, but it seems that some are just flat out offended and hurt that you decide you are not emotionally capable of attending family holiday celebrations.
I hope that some day the pain will weaken enough to allow a somewhat normal lifestyle but for now, we are broken.
