it's a big day. HUGE.
The past three weeks have been a lot.
More than the 4 full months before them of quarantining.
In the past three weeks I've gone from wife, mom, daughter, friend, family to a person who needs brain surgery.
This seems like the perfect time to address the joke makers like, myself and the "fans" (Fans is in "air bunnies" because it's could say naysayers, haters, debbie downers, negative nelly or trolls - I've dubbed all those category members as "fans". I pray for them all.)
As for the jokes, OF course I need brain surgery, have you MET me? For the "fans" they aren't going to be enhancing the "fake nice" lobe soooooooo sorry, not sorry.
The personal evolution I've gone through from first onset of symptoms, late February into early March, to multiple imaging rounds through mid-May, consults and diagnosis into late June and early July to today. Surgery. Feels kind of surreal as I sit here, hair wrapped because it's partially shaved and in cornrows. I've never been, felt or been more vulnerable, dependent, scared or felt more love and support ever. (You all KNOW I don't just throw verbal finalities out there like penny candy in the Town Day parade.)
In February 2016, I because mama, to the most beautiful tiny - ever. (totally not objective) MBM (mama bear mode) was activated and put on HIGH and the lever broke. Since that day I have felt all the feels, and the one I'm most proud of is living my best life to be able to let them live their best life. Provide all the things, physical, emotional, mental & material - that they could ever need. Being a mom is my purpose. I didn't know it. WARNING SPIRITUALITY: God did. I know this because this person I made from scratch is the best parts of me and highlights (read: shines a hard LED 6000000000lumen spotlight) on some parts that could use some work.
Since becoming a parent, I've put myself far from the top. Which was a sign of the truest love, because while I had serious, sometimes questionable level of love for my hunk, parents and friends, I was A L W A Y S number 1.
ALWAYS.
Today, 4 1/2 years into being a mom, I sit humbled by the unquestionable love & unwavering support I immediately received - even when I though had you asked me, this mama bear would have said "I'm good".
Why the story of the kid? It's my Achilles (please don't rename that, I just learned how to spell it and then there's the last new Brad Pitt movie I watched, because 2005 and Angelina.) the kid is my sun, moon & stars. My hopes, dreams & sarcasm in one tiny package that I love more than myself. I said to my nearest, dearest, bestest, knows where I hid the bodies friend (I had to avoid using the word oldest, because well we aren't old and we don't like to put lame things like numbers on our friendship longevity - Let's just say a REALLLLLLLY longtime friend.) This person knew I was in love when I sent her a picture with me in it and I wasn't front and center. This person knew I was going to be a decent mom because of my list of worries - except the one about thinking they'd be unfortunate looking. This is a person knows when I say, I would stop a bus, bullet, train whatever with my whole body (and that of doddie) to protect this human - shit is REAL.
I've had surgeries. I think I've had a lot. My mom says eh not that many and apparently, taking the kid out through the sunroof and associated procedures as a result doesn't count as one. But I'm not afeared of surgery. It's routine. Procedural. Sterile. Right up my type A ally. It's one of the only situations when I am COMPLETELY out of control of it all and I handle it well.
Today, my heart is racing. I'm staring at a giant Xanax (so no, Xanax Stephanie is not writing this) I took enough Ativan last night to put out a large animal and yet, the hours just ticked by. I heard every single digital streaming break Amazon Music took, why Amazon haven't you figured this shit out. I don't want to have to do the I heart radio thing, or use spotify for my nighttime noise, but you're leaving me with little to no choice. GET IT TOGETHER.
I'd love to faceplant in a pan of brownies, but I can't eat including mints, gum & candy - I would LOVE to hear the story that added that little sidenote.
I can have water (originally, they said clear liquids - until I pointed out that Vodka, Gin, Silver Tequila are all clear. My new sheet now specifically says "You may have water or sports drinks - insert specific brand names or apple juice. I'd say sorry, but if they had to be specific on that you can't eat anything and call out mints, candy and gum - clear liquids is a VERY broad brush. Too broad. Also, when I'm uncomfortable - I use humor. Not sorry like at all.)
I would love to do some selfcare and put on a my face, do my hair, wear something awesome.
But nope, for the first time since third grade (I have proof) I'm leaving my home without a drop of hair product. (as for the makeup and real clothes - I could take it or leave it.) Instead my beautiful cousin took time out of her trip to visit her mom to come and braid my hair (and tell me to wrap it.)
My love muffin is off today, I'm sure we could find something less clinical to reconnect and show love and affection than a romantic gesture of him letting me drive into Boston today (unless I take the BIG Xanax, which part of me thinks he's REALLY hoping I do. The dude HATES my driving. Hates it. Weirdo, but he's mine. Also no matter the outcome of today, the status of our marriage he's only getting out alive if I die. And if that's the case, I DO NOT want him to find happiness with someone else. I will drive the karma bus RIGHT over the first person who says that to be true)
My parents. Sweet Baby Cheeses do I have the BEST parents. (disclaimer: my dad referenced in this piece and in my life is NOT my biological male contributor. Which is the ONLY thing the man I call dad/padre and my kid calls papa has NOT done or been a part of my life.) My parents. They're phenomenal. They're perfect point between "fly bitch" and "chew my food for me". They've taught me more than they will ever know. I try to make them proud to be my parent all the time. You wouldn't BELIEVE the promotion I got when I hatched them the most perfect glambabe. Like GOD had my back knowing this could only go one way. AWESOME. My parents have had to wrestle their love for their child, and the love of their grandchild who has usurped my place in line, and I couldn't be more delighted - in facing this harrowing uncertain road. I will never be able to completely share with them how much I love and appreciate their existence. Did I feel this way 1990-1998 when I would get grounded and thus banned from viewing my 9-0? And had to depend on a VCR and a less than mediocre sibling to record it for me? Not really. But we're all better for it. And Thanks to the HULU & CBS app.
As for my husband (some may say victim), love muffin, stud, partner - in his line of work, he plays the "tough guy" with the dad jokes. He walks and talks and gets to be in charge. At home, his life is much much different. The past 3 weeks, he's had to bring his tough exterior home with him. Because I, the keeper of all things together - socks, plans, calendars, house - was unraveling. He provided me space to feel, cry, nap, watch downton - again, not get out of bed, be so busy and then have nothing to do. He's been a rock. He's got the WORST (best) jokes. His laugh is the best sound though sometimes, it makes me want to punch him in the throat. But he's mine and that's my favorite part.
I'm just a few hours away from heading into the hospital.
My staff meeting member, Maggie said something that has been knocking around my head for the past few hours (when I should have been sleeping). It has to do with plan on things being different. Like BC & AD, Single v Married, kid or no kid. There is me before today and there will be me after today. I will be me. I will be the "same" but there may be some nuances or changes, and Mags said instead of fighting them ala 2014 embrace them, allow them to come in see where they fit and adjust - don't resist.
This is my first step in preparing to do just that.
I'm filled with gratitude for the timing of this whole shebang, I'm thankful for the mountains of support from my people, I'm blessed with deep rooted faith in God and his ultimate healing hand. I'm confident that the Surgeon doesn't want to ruin his record and I don't want to die. I'm loved, beyond measure.
This is real personal. And kinda heavy for a midweek morning post.
But don't forget, it's Wednesday and on Wednesdays we wear pink.
