The impossible happened: My 16-month-old baby has cancer
My baby has cancer. My sweet, snuggly, smiling boy who still plays with my hair while breastfeeding and loves long walks wrapped high on my back, burying his head into my shoulder, has cancer. I want to scream from a mountaintop. I don?t know how to process this information, so I tell everyone I encounter: the waitress at our favourite restaurant, strangers at the dog park. Maybe if I say it enough times, it will feel real. Maybe I?ll feel as brave as everyone keeps telling me I am. Maybe I?ll cry. I?m terrified to feel anything resembling sadness?it?s too similar to loss.
Looks of shock typically follow our cancer bomb. The cashier at the grocery store hugs me after Annabelle, my outgoing, curly-haired five-year-old, blurts out ?My brother has cancer!? I wonder how long we should embrace and whether we?re easing her discomfort or mine. Friends and family bring too much lasagna and shepherd?s pie and offer to watch our little girl, who is suddenly dealing with an absent family in crisis. Some people find it too hard to deal with the reality of cancer and disappear, talk to me as if nothing has changed or use empty platitudes. I want to yell, ?Everything does not happen for a f*$&ing reason!? Instead, I swallow the anger and sadness until it hardens in my chest, becoming part of my armour. But no amount of mom power can counter the pain and suffering that my 16-month-old is about to endure. We grow accustomed to the volley of questions: How are you coping" What?s th...
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27-04-2024 08:05 - (
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