2 years later...

July 10, 2008 at 11am-ish, I was phoned that my baby has cancer. Two years ago today we were living with cancer, not knowing what type, the prognosis or what we were going to do. Here we are two years later. She has been through many levels of hell and is not out of there yet.

We have had a great weekend and I was even able to relinquish her to be with Grandma all day yesterday. It took a lot of work on my part mentally and emotionally to not make her stay home from the wedding in the afternoon that she had already been told by Grandma that she was going to attend. I am so glad I did though. She had a great time and danced her hiney off with none other but her admitting nurses' daughter!! Joy she deserves and I am so glad I did not keep it from her because of my anxiety.

I find myself, after two years, to be riddled with fear and anxiety of stepping out of this house, this bubble we are in, and allowing she and Coop to do things without me by their side. On the rare times I do it I am watching the clock for them to come home. I contemplate whether to take her places over and over in my head. Simple places like Target, friends homes even family functions. And more often than not land on the decision to not go and do something; it is safer here. We longer go to the YMCA because my anxiety goes into over drive when I think of the germs in there. I can't even really remember just picking up and going without thinking about it for hours sometimes even days. My prayer is that ViviAnne and Cooper not be forever altered by these fears and anxieties.

ViviAnne is doing great. In two years she has only been in the hospital for longer than 24 hours every 6 months. And with exception to last April when her bone marrow stopped working she has really been a lucky one. She is beautiful and sweet and caring. Her caring even becomes a hinderance for her at times. She loves to dance and swim and sing. She LOVES to wear dresses, paint her nails and play all things girly and she loves books and drawing too. She is amazing with the complex issues and how she has a natural instinct on how to cope with them in the moment and then release and break down after it. Such a grown up thing to do.

Two years later we know what type, we know what the prognosis is but we still don't know what we are going to do. How to do this new life that is coming before us. I don't think we've done the past two years great. Not great but fair. But there is no hand book or "how to" book on life, no matter if there is cancer in that life or not. We do the best we can with what we have. And when you have been handed hell, you deal with it the best you can for you and yours.

Two years down. Three more Vinchristine pushes and one more Spinal Tap to go. The every day battle is ending. The light is there. And much like we were shoved into the darkness we are now being pushed into the light. Yes, it is for our own good but the darkness becomes your comfort zone making the light you have so longed for, prayed for and wished for just as scary as the dark.

Don't misunderstand. I want her to have her body back from these poisons she has been forced to take to save her life. I want to get to know my little girl as whom I thought she would be before she was diagnosed. I want her to know what it is like to have a day with no tummy aches, legs that can run the full length of the play ground without hurting, and a brain that is just as sharp and quick as others around her. But the fear is there. Gripping on so tight, pulling at you and your joy. I always wanted to have a joyful home. Maybe in the next year we can figure that out. Maybe the light will rush over all of us and the fear will be but just a memory buried in the back of my soul.