Sorry that I’ve been laying low lately. I’ve been trying to wrap my mind around some stuff and I figured that the best way to deal with it is to share it with all of you. It’s personal and hard to talk about, but much like the saying goes about pooping…..it’s better out than in.

I never thought that I was destined to be a mom. Sure, I always imagined having a child, but I never saw myself with more than one. Even my Barbie and Ken were only allowed to look after one My Litte Pony under my ruling. When I decided that the time was right to have a baby, it was two years into my marriage. I wanted to be sure that my husband or myself wouldn’t get all squirrely with our new bride and groom titles. When it seemed as though the coast was clear, we made some bedroom magic and had our son on our wedding anniversary. That moment was when I knew that I was wrong. I was destined to be a mother. Having an epidural (that didn’t work by the way) and being in labor for what seemed to be thirteen days didn’t stop me from trying to climb off of the bed to see why he wasn’t crying within one second of being born. Those instincts were immediately there, and they kicked in hard. This little boy became the center of our worlds. Sure, I would take a knife for my husband, but this was a whole new ballgame. This was a ride a rocket ship Armageddon style to save the world if it meant saving my son kind of situation. I was immediately head over heels in love and from that moment on, would be in a constant state of protective mom mode.

When it came to having a second, I’ve always said “When my body tells me that it’s time, then I will”. I trusted the universe to tell me, like it had told me the time before. Well, as it turns out, the universe can be a real cold bitch sometimes. The thing is, I probably won’t be able to have another child (writing that was like taking a bullet). These tumors in my stomach have to be dealt with and I only have two options. One is a full hysterectomy, which the doctor doesn’t want to do because of my age and because I’m so anemic that it might not go well for me. The second is an embolization. It’s a simple procedure where I would only be in the hospital overnight, the downside being most women can’t have a child after. It’s supposed to be extremely painful because essentially they are stopping the blood flow to the tumors so that they die and shrink, but being the mom that I am all I heard was that I would only have to spend one night away from my son. Even with being faced with having no more kids, all I could think about was what would be easiest for him. My brain isn’t built to think about the children I could have had. It’s built to protect the one that’s here.

When they broke the news to me, I was already a cry machine. I was at a specialist in Winnipeg where they were doing scary, terrible tests. I had to make the joke while my legs were in the stirrups that usually I would have at least had a glass of wine bought for me before that treatment. Thank god my doctor has a sense of humor. After my biopsy, which I likend to when they harpoon a shark with a sensory chip during shark week, they broke the news to me. Which couldn’t have been easy for them, considering they had probably been waiting for me to finish crying for the past hour. Fuck, the news wasn’t even bad yet! They must have been thinking “hold onto your ass doll face, this has just begun”. Everything just kind of went by so quickly. You’re given this news and then immediately have to decide what your plan of action will be. I was kind of in a haze. It wasn’t until I was on my long ride back home that I actually really got to take everything in. It got me thinking. Did I want another child? What about the little girl I’ve always wanted? So Cash will never know what it’s like to have a brother or sister? If you were to tell me that I couldn’t eat Doritos for the rest of my life, all I would want would be a damn bag of Doritos. I’m a real treat like that. I hadn’t even thought about my husband yet…..

My husband has always wanted a second child. So now not only do I have a stomach full of tumors, I have an incredible sense of guilt that I missed that window. Sometimes that’s really hard on a marriage. This past year hasn’t just changed my life. It’s changed his as well. His wife isn’t the same person. I’m tired all the time and have no energy, I’m used to looking a certain way and these tumors have really fucked with that, and now this. I’m thankful that he’s so supportive and just wants me to be healthy again. It’s me who feels bad for him. I’m hoping once it’s all over and done with, we just move forward as usual. Which, I’m sure that we will. It’s what we usually do.

Now, I want to get one thing straight. I don’t want to come off as wanting you to feel bad for me. Yes, it’s a shitty situation, but it could be worse. Way worse. I was lucky enough to have a child before this happened, some people don’t have that luxury. Also, after my operation I will be (sorry for the phrasing) good as gold. Some people don’t have that luxury either. I’m not fighting for my life. My son won’t be affected by this in the long run, other than he won’t have to share his toys with a sibling. I just wanted to share it so that you know what’s going on. I’m trying to share more personal things with you guys and I figured what would be more personal than this. I can only focus on the future and be thankful for the fact that things aren’t as bad as they could be. If anything, maybe it will help me deal with my rage when I step on my sons Legos when he leaves them out. See, there’s always a bright side.

xo Stephanie