Lower than a Snake' s Belly

One Exhausted Mom: I think for myself, I am still in shock that the cancer is gone. I wish today that knowledge had brought me more comfort. I feel like we fought a battle and won, but somehow, the war is not over. I have felt like I have had to hold it together — to fight, to not stop looking up, so as to not completely loose it. (Though I have lost it on many occasions.) I am no longer holding it together. I am officially going down, tears, fears and all!!! That roller coaster ride I was on has officially crashed.
I have been in a completely different mode of life. I have been a nurse, a counselor, a mom and companion to my Mr. Blue Eyes, along with taking care of everyone else in the family. I have had very little time to process these events, I have mostly had to just push through. I have been living at a heightened level for months now. It has been the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I did not have a choice whether I could do it or not, I just did it. To be completely honest, this stinks. I hurt everywhere. My heart is raw. The let down from living this way is immense, and I am sure it is just going to take longer than I thought to find our new normal. I wish I were jumping up and down, but the fact is that I have a kid with a compromised immune system, and I am scared to death of his reentry into the world. It makes me feel sick to think about it. Cancer is gone, but not the unease of knowing it could come back. There is a lot to adjust to. I also feel guilty after seeing all the other moms at the hospital taking care of the cancer-ridden kids, and mine is going to be OK and theirs are not yet. Fourteen percent of them will not even make it. That breaks my heart. This is a war that must be won. I will never stop fighting for it.

Someone dear to me said that I seem so strong from what she has read on the blog. I assured her I am not. Anyone with this battle ahead would do what I did. I am just a normal mom that tried to help my son fight in his battle with cancer. I have recorded it for him, for my family and friends, and for any mom out there who may be in my shoes. (Follow the link to a post I wrote mid-journey that I just got brave enough to publish.)   So to be real with her, and anyone else who is reading this, I am not going to hide the extent and cost of this journey, and how I feel on this dark night. This has been unbelievably hard. I am just a normal person falling apart, or as my Aunt says, feeling "LOWER THAN A SNAKES BELLY."  I'm not sure how this will go, but I will feel it, grieve it, and eventually I will get myself together again.  So this will be my quote to hold onto tonight. I am sure in the morning a new day will look brighter.