It's been over six months since my last post. What can I say? I have no good excuse except that I have been busy living, which after cancer is a wonderful thing to be able to say.
I won't lie, though, adjusting to ''survivor-hood'' has not been the sunshine and butterflies experience I was expecting it to be. Quite the opposite, in fact; I often find myself feeling like a new person trying to fit in to their old life, which is impossible. My perspectives have changed in so many ways, and I cannot unsee what I have seen, in terms of both experiences as well as the behavior of those around me.
It was in October that I began to feel the beginnings of my struggle in survivor-hood. I had been planning the baby's 1st birthday party all summer, and it was going to be a big affair. Since I was too unwell to host parties for my 7 and 5 year old's summer birthdays, it was decided they could invite friends over to the baby's party, which would be in late October, a couple of weeks after his actual birthday. That would give me time to begin radiation and see how I was handling the side effects.
I decided on a farm theme for our fall baby, complete with pumpkin painting, hay bales, a pie bar, apple cider, a bunny petting zoo, and pony rides-one unicorn pony, and one cowboy pony. The weather was perfect, and it couldn't have been a better time to celebrate. I was just so grateful that I lived to see my son turn one.
With my abdomen still healing from surgery, I could not climb up to the attic to retrieve the fall decorations. Every year I look forward to decorating for the Autumnal Equinox with my little box of decorations; leaf garland around the front door, my metal pumpkin handle holders, a wooden, glittery pinecone wreath. All September I asked my husband, ''While you're in the attic, can you please take down the fall decorations?'' to no avail. The Autumnal Equinox, my favorite day of the year, came and went, and soon it was October and I was still asking. It was finally the day of the party, October 24th, and I said, ''Can you please get that box from the attic for me? We are having a farm party and I would really love to put up my decorations.'' ''Do you really need them?'', my husband replied. It was then that I had just had it. I had it. That was my tipping point. Here I was, the morning of the party I had been planning all summer, a whole house full of people about to come over, a little worried about debuting myself with my buzzed-looking hairstyle, and still I was begging and groveling for my fall decorations. It was so assinine to me. I couldn't believe that something that meant so much to me was such a struggle to obtain. Finally he brought it down, and I just looked at the box: ''Fall Decorations'' written on the side with Sharpie. I cried and cried silently to myself, feeling so pathetic for some reason. I used to excitedly pick up decoration after decoration from the box, and now I just reached for each one with a tinge of sadness. It's like I had to fight so hard to survive cancer, so hard to live to be here, and so hard just for a box filled with garland and candle holders. I guess in that moment, I was just sick of fighting. I should have been so jovial on this day, after surviving the hardest time of my life, and there I was, in tears.
Was everything going to be this difficult for now on?
It was then that I noticed that my feelings began to change. I looked at my husband differently. Not in a particularly bad way, just differently. How many tears I had cried during my treatment that I may never have another fall; another season of pumpkins and hayrides and cozy cardigans and hot cups of tea and long walks in the woods, with leaves dancing in the air and the sound of crunching beneath my feet. We could have had such fun together, putting up the decorations and celebrating as a family. Instead it was just another chore, another obligation. The joy was sucked right out of something that made me so very happy.
The next year, I would be celebrating the Autumnal Equinox on my own during a solo trip. I was not sure where yet at the time, but knew I would be elsewhere. Just looking at the box that said, ''Fall Decorations'' made me have a knot in my stomach for weeks. It just made me feel sadness, and I could not figure out why at the time but now I know it was because of what it symbolized: a turning point in my marriage.
I hope one day I can look at my beloved decorations again and not feel anger and bitterness. I hope one day I can look at them without remembering how let down and disappointed I felt that day.
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