Oh Old Me...Where are you?

I am a cancer survivor. I fought hard. I lost my hair, I lost my eyebrows, I lost a lot of friends. I gained weight and resentment. I feel resentment to the people my age who go to live their 20's like it's supposed to be. I resent that I had to fight for my life while my friends went to college, partied and flourished. I resent that people thank my husband for staying with me during such a terrible time like they think he should have left. I resent all the people who told me that "God doesn't give us more then we can handle" because I feel like this one time He did.

I thought the feeling of resentment would go away. But 3.5 years later it hasn't. In fact, it's grown into guilt, sadness and anger. I feel guilty that my husband and I will forever financially be in debt to family and hospitals for all the help we were given during my cancer. I feel guilty that my husband had to change job to take care of me. I feel guilty he didn't get to marry the woman he proposed to but rather the woman who emerged after cancer. Because she is NOT me. She is mad. She is cynical. She is socially awkward. She is angry. She is SO sad. She wants to be the pre-cancer version of herself. And here is the weirdest part. I feel guilty that I survived. And that I have two beautiful healthy baby girls. I feel guilty (although lucky) that I lived and someone else had to die.

I get angry some days. I have these scars. People still look, wonder and sometimes ask. I tell them cancer. They feel sorry for me. Then I get even more angry. I get angry that people feel like I owe them something. Like I chose to ruin their lives for those six months of chemo, like I asked them to give up their plans to comfort me as my bones hurt from the inside out. I want to yell and scream and tell them I didn't CHOOSE my sickness and they should just back off it.

Yet, in in all, I know I am SO lucky. I am SO blessed. I put on my happy face everyday. I love my children. I remember that if I wouldn't have made it my GIRLS wouldn't be here. It doesn't take away the resentment, the anger or the sadness but my momma always said, "fake it til ya make it".

New Lace Undies

So it's been 8 weeks since Evelyn was born. My husband keeps reminding me that it's time. You know what I mean. The six week healing process is up and he wants his wife back, eh hmm. Well, my doctor informed me that it isn't time until my IUD goes in, sorry baby! Okay, anyway.

I decided, that since there is nothing about my body that appeals to my eyes, I would buy some new undies to make me feel better about myself. I used to buy lace underwear and it would stay nice. I would wear it all the time and it made me feel feminine and sexy. Things during cancer I needed to feel. I would wash them and they would come out in the form of underwear. Stay with me.

So, I washed my new underwear. Let me re-phrase that, I put them in the laundry and Bill washed them. Want to know what he washed them with...bibs. Do you know how most bibs close, Velcro. Do you see where I am going with this? I pull out my new undies out of the basket today and what do I find...a bib stuck to my lace undies. Yep, the bib says "single" on it and it is stuck to my lace underwear. At first I am mad. Then I think it's funny. Now I am concerned. Is this a sign of things to come? Is there every going to be a day that I own nice lace undies again? Or where Billy and I won't sleep in our sweatpants with a toddler between us? phew.

I think the bib attached undies were a brief reminder that I am a mom first. I will always be a mom and even when I want a special moment with my husband, there will be a bib attached, per say. I think it's time to go back to the laundry basket now and see what else my undies got washed with, maybe it'll teach me another lesson!