Trust the process

I don’t think anything could have prepared me for that moment. I don’t even think there’s a word to describe whatever that feeling was. The only way I can try to describe it would be: everything stopped, but kept spinning; it went silent, but loudly asked “WHY?!” a million times; I wanted to run and collapse; I had to throw up, but couldn’t; I wanted to laugh thinking it was a sick joke and hit something because it wasn’t funny- all at the same time; but all I could do was put my head down and cry uncontrollably. This was my baby that I promised to love and protect. I’m his mom. If there’s a problem, I fix it. I always have the answers no matter what it is, but this time all I had were questions. For the first time, I felt helpless. I was broken.

The next two days were a blur. A lot of crying, researching, crying, overthinking, crying, rinse & repeat. Day 4 started the beginning of a turn around. I started talking to others who had gone through this, and also those currently going through the same. I learned a lot, not just about the disease, but about life; about myself. I learned not everything can be controlled or has a solution. I learned that cancer isn’t a death sentence and treatment isn’t a guarantee of life. I learned that I’m not alone. I learned to take things a day at a time and cherish the good. My son was still his normal, happy self while I was a mess, and I had to recognize this. This wasn’t just a fight against a disease, it was a chance to chance to love harder and make every moment count. I learned that you can do everything right, but shit can still happen; and you can’t beat yourself up over that. I learned to accept the inevitable, but not go down without fighting. I learned that it’s no longer about me. I learned to be selfless.

Day 5 was a turning point. I promised my babies that for now on everyday was going to be the best day ever. I don’t know what happened, but this tapped in to something I didn’t even know I had. I was ready to fight harder; but more importantly, I was ready to love harder than that. I had a purpose: to keep a smile on my baby’s face… oh yeah, and kick cancers ass too.

Grieving time was over. Time to take action.

Author: nellysmommy

I’m a fur mommy of 3: Ruby- 8 y/o red nose pit bull, Mr Nelson- 5 y/o mastiff mix, Svetlana- 2 y/o maine coon/Russian blue kitty. All three adopted (I don’t care to use the term “rescue” because I view the ‘saving’ as mutual) early on in their lives. Each has their own unique personality and much to my surprise, make a great sibling trio. My home is hairy and heart is full; to say I’m lucky is an understatement. On June 5, Nelly developed a slight limp and I noticed a bit of swelling on his right wrist. Figuring he sprained it playing with his sister, I kept an eye on it and tried to have him rest. When it comes to my babies I tend to overreact/overthink a bit (“what if this sprain leads to arthritis in the future? He might need a brace...”) and ended up scheduling an appointment with our vet (against everyone’s suggesting I’m just being dramatic- “give him an Advil, he’ll be fine tomorrow”). We go in June 7th, our vet suggests sedating him (which I freaked out over) for X-rays to see what exactly was going in. I went on about some errands until I got the call to come pick him up. Something in my gut felt off all day, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it until I was completely blindsided by two words that changed everything: it’s cancer. This is our journey. View all posts by nellysmommy