It’s time to get real about going to a doctor. The intermittent bleeding has not stopped. It’s been a month. It’s been 2 periods (if they were periods). Something is wrong. Googling the issues I’m having leads to pretty much 1 thing, and it’s not a good thing. I have ZERO risk factors for it, but what can I say? My body never has done the right thing at the right time, so why should I expect any less?
It really makes me think. Hard. If my time is up, what then? Two little girls. One still nursing. That relationship hijacked. My kids, thrust in the arms of strangers every day when they’ve been fed 3 meals and snacks by me nearly every day of their lives. What if the worst happens? My husband. Alone. In his early 30’s. Don’t get me wrong, I have never had many glorious plans about what I would do with my life, but I certainly don’t want it be over. Not at this age. Not at this stage.
It could be nothing. Or it could be something really bad. I don’t know if I have the strength to be a fighter. I’m so worn down right now that I can’t imagine going through treatment for ANYTHING and coming out on the other side. I’m under stress to the maximum point my body can handle most days, I’m exhausted day and night already. I can’t imagine going on any glorious whirlwind adventures to carry me though to the end. I can’t imagine climbing a mountain or riding a bull to get a big thrill. I can’t even imagine sitting on the beach, I just want to hold my babies, and cry a lot. What if what I’ve given them just isn’t enough? What if I’ve yelled too much and hugged too little and the wisdom I’ve shared just doesn’t mean anything after a few months? What will they remember? What will they forget? Will my time on earth be just a blur of screaming ‘stop running around the table someone is going to get hurt!’? Or will it have meant something more? Will it matter that I carefully picked out clothes I thought they would like? That their rooms are painted bright colors that I chose, that I hugged extra ‘love’ into all their stuffed animals? That I did my best? Or would I simply be a faint memory?
Should I try harder now? Let nothing change so their lives are consistent? Spoil them while I have the chance?
What about my husband? How can I possibly give all my love and and attention to my kids and ignore him? He’s known me a lot longer. He’s loved me longer, he knows my thoughts without having to say a word, from across the room. He just knows. How do you leave your soul mate to pick up the pieces? What can you possibly say that says to him ‘I’m sorry’ that encompasses every fight, every night you simply passed out tired without a hug or kiss goodnight, every muttered curse when you kick into his shoes, every last penny you spent on yourself that should be going to the kid’s college funds? How do you say I love you when he already knows?
I guess the truth is, I don’t want to go to the beach. I don’t want a quiet spot to meditate. I don’t even want a big party to say goodbye. I want my crazy, loud, loving life.