Dream

My fingers itch to write. I find myself thinking about journaling now…it is such a release for me I think I am doing it a little in my head all day long and finding little ways to release all the emotion that is stirring inside of me.

Heres a kicker for you. We got another hospital bill today. For the first oncologist visit where they told us about her having DIPG…when we heard the words we honestly didn’t know existed. Incurable. When I opened I wanted to rip it to shreds. I didn’t, actually I think I cracked a smile because of how ridiculous it is. I guess I should have steeled myself for it though..it is a logical bill…But I don’t know if I can bring myself to sign that check.

Today Tony and I did our first cross fit. All the people at the box kept saying how hard it was, I kinda thought they were just being nice since it was difficult for us to do. Afterwards I talked to our dear friends who created the WOD (workout of day) and she explained they made it as hard as they could because this is such a hard journey for a 6yr old girl. And I was touched and proud of what my baby is accomplishing without even knowing it.

As I ran I thought of my daughter. How she is fighting through obstacles everyday…and how much I want her to push herself forward. I was making little deals…I dunno with who…myself or God. That if I just kept running even when I wanted to walk, if I did the lunge even with my legs burning it could somehow prevent all of this from being real. Maybe?

I have read before how people say a moment was like a dream. I can say this has all felt like such a dream, or lets be honest a nightmare. Its still not real to me. The moments that it does even slightly begin to penetrate, my breathe catches and my throat closes.. I refuse the feelings.  Its like my body cannot allow it to happen. When you get a mouthful of water in the pool and your reflexes take over and don’t allow you to choke. Its the same. My body/mind/soul fight these emotions from drowning me and rise me above the depths. Its not even intentional its just automatic. And none of this really feels real.

 

I cant remember my dreams anymore either. Not a single moment from them. Now when I wake up to nurse the baby I try to see if I can remember what I was just dreaming about and I can’t. This is new for me. I actually had pretty good dream retention in the past.

I have watched almost no tv in the past months…oh no wait…its been less than a month hasn’t it…But I did last night. And I found that even doing that is hard and sparks feelings I couldn’t have expected. Seeing commercials about cars. My daughter will never drive. Graduations. She will never experience that. And the hardest one for me is to sit next to her Daddy and see anything connected to a wedding. One of the multitude of joys of being a father to a daughter is walking her down the aisle. Cancer is robbing my husband of that moment….of a father daughter dance…of getting asked for her hand. But tumors don’t care and they don’t ask.

I see on facebook people posting how they hate cancer…how cancer sucks. I never really understood before. I hate that tumor in her head. I refuse to say her tumor since its not hers….its not supposed it be a piece of her. But it is. Its grown and taken over a little part of her. Grown interwoven so much that they cannot even attempt to remover it. Her oncologist explained it like the stripes on the shirt my husband was wearing that day (I hate that shirt) that it would be like trying to remove one of those stripes without destroying the shirt. And that’s just not possible. So I find myself kissing where I think it is on the back of her little head. Something I hate with such fervor linked with something I love with ultimate fierceness.

I almost never cry anymore. I think something inside of me is too scared to let me go there right now…since I may never make it back. I hurt and I ache. But its not in the core of me. I am hollow…or maybe so protected from myself that I cant feel…

Or maybe its all just a dream and I will wake up? I am waiting for my mom to come in and wake me up…please…please…

And now I wonder…

Is that what Jennifer is thinking too…

Is she just waiting for mommy to just wake her up?

3 Responses to “Dream”

  1. Dear Libby,

    I hate that you have to write like this. I hate that the rest of the world is learning so much at your expense, I hate this damn tumor… You are incredibly strong and you write so well.. Hugs.

  2. Thank you for writing, for you and for me. Praying for you and yours, and if there are days when you cannot pray, we (such a lovely big we) are praying for you.

  3. Hi Libby. It has taken me far too long to read this and reach out to you. Your writing is amazing and beautiful and inspiring. You are an incredible Mom, even when it might not feel like it. If I can help you in any way I am here. Love, Lori

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