cancer...i'm really going there

Ever sit and people watch? Think about how they live and what their life is like? What their spouses do for a living? If they went to college or have kids. If they have kids, what are they like, what schools do they attend, what do they aspire to be when they grow up? Do they vacation in Hawaii or maybe the Florida beaches? Maybe they even embark on a family cruise every year in April. You know, when the weather is perfect. The spring air is still a part of daily life and summer is far enough off that there's no fear of a heat stroke.

As your daydreaming, wondering about this perfect family, do you stop and wonder if they've lost a child? Maybe to a car accident, drowning or even cancer. No? Oh, because it's too rare and never happens to someone you actually "know." 

I was that person. I'm guilty of being a people watcher. Sit me on a bench and I will stare away. Not because I am criticizing anyone, but because I'm so curious. Curious of other's lives. What they love, where they grew up, how they live? Is it a ranch style with wooden shutters or maybe an apartment downtown. I could get lost thinking about how everyone else might live. 

The one thing I never imagined myself getting wrapped up in...cancer. Not at my age, I was 29, who in the hell knew anything about cancer. How could your life stop, just like that, no warning at all. I'd be lucky if the cancer had come at me, I'd been married and had 3 beautiful children. I'd served in the military and toured America and Asia. While I was still a baby, I'd had my first boyfriend who took me to prom. I worked my first summer job and danced at every Senior football game. I got married, started a family and brought 3 gorgeous babies into this world. I'm bias, I know, but they are beautiful. I now have 4, my oh my. Sweet Davis joined us shortly after Christmas of last year. 

But, cancer punched us, right in the gut. Just like it does to everyone else. We went to sleep one night, woke up the next morning...less than 12 hours later we found out our 5 year old daughter had cancer. 

It was July 13th, a Friday. I'll never forget. There are few days that I remember so vividly, this is one of them. It's also one I wish I could forget. 

I've debated sharing our daughter's entire story here. Most of those reading know what she's been through over the last 3 years. So with that said, I think I'm going to focus on the 4 weeks she spent on the Bone Marrow Transplant floor at St Jude Children's Research Hospital. 

That month was the hardest. It not only beat me emotionally, but physically as well. My daughter was sick and I was 33 weeks pregnant. I couldn't imagine not being her caregiver, so there was no question that I would stay, but it took it's toll. I never complained to B. She deserved more and my temporary pain was nothing compared to what her poor body went through. 

I've never gone into detail of what she experienced that month. I'm not sure why, there isn't a specific reason. With September arriving in a few days, social media will be flooded with "go gold" and "childhood cancer awareness month" photos and stories. Parents, family, friends, researchers, doctors, nurses who see cancer everyday will share our stories. 

To be honest, I think one of the reasons I block out B's transplant, is it was one of the few times I thought we could lose her. That after 2 relapses her cancer was going to outsmart us and take her. I was going to watch her fall asleep one last time and then never see her blue eyes or kiss her sweet cheeks. She was never going to meet her baby brother. Davis had been on this journey everyday I had, he was used to the 3 of us spending our days together. 

{B the day we checked in for her St Jude vacation. Who wouldn't want to spend like every.single.day with this girl. Hello matching boots, jacket and umbrella. Girl's rain game is #strong.}

We checked in around 9pm on a Tuesday night. Don't even get me started on that. I know there's a protocol and reason they do this, but it's a horrible time to check in. All you want to do is unpack and rest, but, you have 4,587 questions to answer. 95% of them are in her chart, but they have to ask anyway. B had to have all her vitals, weight, start iv medications...etc. etc. All this mom wanted was her cold chicken sandwich and lukewarm Diet Coke. Shortly after midnight we settled into our new home away from home. B was allowed to have her own blankets and pillowcases. They had to be washed daily though. I brought a few of her favorites so I could do laundry everyday and never leave her without her comforts. I was going to do whatever I could to make her happy. 

{November 5th was the last day she ate a meal until January. She loved the ham and cheese from the cafe, this was the last one she had.}

Chemo started that morning...continued for 7 days. For 7 days I let them pump the most toxic drugs into her body and at a rate she'd never experienced before. The amount of chemotherapy she received was so intense, without a stem cell transplant her body would have never recovered.

Bailey would save her own life. She's the definition of a superhero.

To be continued...