Achy Breaky Heart

"What is wrong with those fiders?" Taylor is crouched down peering at some dead spiders in our garage. "Ummmm, I'm not sure." I reply, really not ready to have an in depth conversation about death and spider heaven. "Are they sick?" she asked.  I tell her they must be. "Did their mommy make them sick?" Oh. My. Gosh. I feel like I may get sick. "No, no, their mommy helps them get better, she never wants her babies sick." I answer.  The next day she tells my mom that the spider's mommy made them sick. Ouch. Later that same day, I tossed away those dead spiders, along with all the guilt I feel.  She doesn't understand all this now, but someday....she will. So, to my 20 something Tay Tay, when you are reading this blog someday, know how much I love you, and you can say a million things to me that may break my heart, but that will never change.

Today was so incredibly hard. Every Monday Taylor is "masked down" (given anesthesia through a mask rather than her port), and she hates it. The worst part of the morning is "restraining" her while they do this, the second worst is handing her limp little body over to the nurses, and the third worst is walking down the long quiet hallway without her to go wait. I am not sure how long it usually takes for Chris and me to start speaking after this process. I know he usually hands me an ice water, and I come floating back down to planet earth.

I  locked eyes with a mother in the waiting room last week, and her heart-sick look tugged at my heartstrings. She was holding an adorable little boy with dark lashes, shading beautiful, brown, sleepy eyes. He has a brain tumor, not a candidate for chemo, and doing radiation to buy more time. Heart wrenching. Her eyes are watery, and it's hard to tell if she has been crying, or may be about to cry. I teeter on this brink myself, caught off-guard daily by grief. She seems frantic, and all I can do is think about what I can do to help her. I give her my number, I console her, commiserate with her....pray for her. I see her every day now, and every day she inspires me. Our kids both have cancer....our babies....little pieces of our hearts walking around in human form....and there is absolutely nothing we can do but hope for miracles, be good mommies in the mean time, and have courage to fight through this.  Please add baby "E" to your prayers.