Long Weekends

The video doesn't quite match my mood - but that's part of the point at the moment.  The doctor called Friday and the biopsy showed there was still cancer. He said "This concerns me"... oh great... so deliver news that concerns the freaking doctor on a Friday night so I can worry about it all weekend. I couldn't stop crying last night. I can only barely contain it today (I woke up crying - twice). I would love to be positive - but that didn't help before. I was positive and didn't jump to the conclusion that it's cancer... no one thought there was any chance of that, so why think it... then it was. I was positive and thought the medicine would take care of everything... the doctor wasn't concerned about the biopsy giving bad results at all... and then it was still cancer.

And I'm crying over crazy things, and I want to let my husband in, but I don't know how - plus he'll just want to hush my concerns. But I'm worried about him in all this. I'm upset that it's still cancer. I'm upset that the medicine has no effect on my particular cells apparently. I'm upset that the medicine that doesn't work has made me gain so much weight, I'll never get it back down. I'm upset that I can never give my husband children. I'm mourning over children that never were - but who had seemed so vivid in my dreams lately. I thought it was a positive sign from God - but I forgot the medicine makes the dreams crazy vivid. I'm upset to find out God isn't anything like I thought, if God even exists - at the most Wayne is right and God doesn't care about us little peons. I'm upset to think that what I had learned last fall, what I thought I knew and what I thought came straight from God was completely not.

And I'm sad I won't be able to give my husband children. I always get a little upset when he refers to his ex step-children as "my kids". I know Wayne has wanted children for some time, but had bad luck in that area, with crazy exes, etc. But, I only mentioned it a few times and managed to bite my tongue - because I knew I would ultimately be the one to give him his kids... and they would be our children. But now, I won't... and we won't really have other options open to us for various reasons - so now he will only have those children as his. And they will be his... completely separate from me, something I could never share. And also, always bittersweet, because they didn't get to be his for always. I'm feeling baby fever too, so I'm sad about losing my chance to be a mother. I don't know that I would have been good at it... but I would have tried my best.

And so I find myself biting back tears at a scene in a commercial with a blond mother and a blond daughter. I dreamed I would have a daughter with deep reddish brown hair - an independent fearless young woman. And a son with a funny smirk and gleam in his eye, who is always up to mischief, but like is grandfather and father, he would turn out to be a responsible, mature, wonderful prince of a young man. But these dreams float away in the light of reality.

And this is what makes me cry over this long weekend. And this is what I can't vocalize to my husband as he holds me and watches the tears fall.