{ that time I found a lump in my breast }

If you've been reading my blog for awhile now, you'll remember a few summers ago when I posted about my mom's breast cancer. You can read all about it here. My maternal grandmother had it too, and because of this, I regularly check myself - just in case.

I'm a paranoid person by nature (remember when I thought my house was haunted and when I let WebMD talk me into thinking I was dying?!) and when I do the self breast exams, I always think I feel a lump here and there. I push and prod and compare it to the other side, but it's usually nothing I worry about. Sometimes I mention that I thought I felt a lump during my annual exam, but the doctor feels and says they're just fine - nothing to be concerned about.

Well about a week ago, I was showering and felt a dime size, hard ball in my right breast. I froze. I felt it again. It wasn't like any other "lump" I'd felt before. I compared it to the other side in the same spot. No, lump on the left. Panic immediately overcame my body and I started bawling. Suddenly visions of IV bags, hair falling out, and my family rushed through my head. I thought of my son and about lost it. Luckily, the tiny, reasonable side of me came out and slapped my panic across the face. "GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF, WOMAN!" I took a deep breath and made myself calm down. One step at a time, Shan. I couldn't let myself get carried away again and as soon as my hands were dry enough to hold my phone, I called my doctor.

As luck would have it, I was able to get in right away with my gynecologist. Maybe it was because the receptionist heard the panic in my voice when I told her I needed an appointment, or maybe it was because my voice cracked and I started crying when I told her it was for a breast check - either way I was so grateful to get in!

When I got to the doctor office, they took me back right away and had me change into a tiny paper gown blouse and then I waited....and waited...and waited. I was so nervous and swallowing the ever growing lump in my throat was getting harder to do. But, because I was nervous, I was getting sweaty, which meant I was getting swoob (sweaty boobs), which is NOT good when someone is about to feel you up to confirm what you think you feel. I quickly grabbed some tissues and of course, as luck would have it, the doctor walked in right as I was mopping myself up - HA.

I told her what I had felt and held my breath as pointed to the area I felt the lump and waited, watching her face as she felt for it. I knew the minute she found it. She paused, her brow furrowing, as she compared the other side. She felt again and said, "Hmmmm...." She sat me up and my heart started pounding when she did feel something unusual, BUT  it felt like a smooth lump (I guess the bad ones aren't smooth?) Probably nothing to worry about, but she was going to have me get it checked just in case. I walked out of the office and again, my mind raced with all the possibilities and I started to cry.

Because of Presidents Day, I had to wait until Tuesday for my appointment. I was thankful for a busy weekend that took my mind off the pending appointment, and I hadn't let myself think about it too much. My neighbor was gracious enough to offer to sit at my house while Baker napped, so I could go to my appointment, and when I pulled into the hospital parking lot, all I could think was that the next hour or so could bring life changing news. The anticipation of relief or heartbreak was too much and I wished I had someones hand to hold as I walked in.

I never imagined myself going into the Womens Imaging Center at the hospital until I was older. I'm 31. I figured the first time I'd visit was when I turned 40 for my first mammogram, so it felt odd as I checked in and then changed into a hospital gown with the open side in front. Instead of a mammogram, my doctor ordered an ultrasound and the tech who performed it was so sweet and so kind. She validated my concern, but she assured me that most of the time, it's nothing. Still, she said, it was best to check, just in case. She began the ultrasound over the area I told her the lump was. I watched the monitor in anticipation, unable to decipher what I was seeing. Everything looked normal to her - it was just a regular boob lump, as boobs tend to be lumpy. Relief flooded over me and I was feeling better as she examined my whole breast.

Suddenly, she stopped moving the ultrasound wand over a specific area of my breast and started snapping screens shots of whatever it was she saw. She pointed to a little oval area on the screen and explained that it looked different. My heart sunk. Then she measured it on the screen, the way the measure the fetus when you're getting a pregnancy ultrasound. When she told me she needed to talk with a doctor to see what he thought, I once again started to cry. It was in an area that I wouldn't have been able to feel it as it was pretty deep, and my mind carried away and I thought for sure God had made the lump in my boob so I could feel it so they could find this other area I wouldn't have been able to feel. I prepared myself for the worst, when the tech came back in. She said the doctor said it looked fine. Nothing to worry about. I was fine. No cancer. I am healthy. And then I cried.

{ trying to figure it all out }

Journal entry from 10/14/2005
"Today was a good day. Nothing particularly exciting happened, but things just fell into place and it was easy. I met with a few vendors today and got a ton updated in the library. Who knew there were design librarians? I didn't, until I graduated from school and found this job! I love it - the job, the building, the people. HBDG is built in this incredibly cool old church that they've restored into a design center. I have my own little space up here and have full control of the library. It was in a bit of a mess when I got here, but I'm utilizing my mad organization skills to whip it into place. After work I drove straight to the gym. I had another appointment with my trainer and he kicked my butt! He's a funny, flirty guy which makes it difficult to get a good workout in. No worries though, I'm getting so buff - still, I'd love to lose another 20 pounds. Speaking of losing weight, I went up to Park City last week and went shopping. I love the outlets up there and spent about $200 on clothes. It was so fun because I bought a lot of things from Banana Republic and the larges were loose on me! Woo hoo! I think I'm going to Express after work tomorrow to get some new work pants. I love the Editor style. I have a date tomorrow - someone my trainer set me up with. We'll see how it goes. Blind dates - yikes! Good night for now..."

Journal entry from today
"The house in quiet so I thought I'd take a few minutes and jot down a few thoughts. Baker woke up this morning at 2:30am. He does that sometimes and usually goes back to sleep, but this morning, he cried. I got up, made a baba, changed him and fed him. He went right back to sleep, but I couldn't. I laid there thinking about things I needed to do. Vacuum, sweep/mop, empty dishwasher, organize things in attic, maybe bring down Halloween decorations. Do I want to decorate now that the month is half over? Take baby stuff up to attic, maybe wait till Andrew gets home from work to do it in case I trip on the ladder and fall. Speaking of fall, I need to find an outfit for Barry's wedding, but I want to loose 60 pounds. Is it possible to lose that much in a month? Maybe just shoot for 10. I need to buy a sports bra. And a jogging stroller. I need to make time to exercise. I feel so fat. Augh. Finally, an hour later, I dozed off again. Andrew woke up early for work & I couldn't fall back asleep. Baker woke up about 7 and we went through our morning routine. I get him out of bed, change him, get him dressed for the day, then we go downstairs. I get him a baba and then try to get him to eat some oatmeal and bananas. He's not been eating as well lately and I worry. Then we go back upstairs so I can shower and get ready. I sit him down with some toys and play with him for a little bit, saying "maaamaaa daadaa baabaa" hoping he'll mimic me and say it back. He just smiles, laughs a little, and squeals. I smile but I also worry - why isn't he babbling more? Why isn't he crawling? What am I doing wrong? I shower, quickly get ready and realize my roots have grown out. All I see are so many gray hairs. I need to stop at Sallys and buy hair dye to fix my roots. No money in the budget this month to get my hair done. Plus, I really don't know what I want to do with my hair. I feel like it's so blah and 95% of the time, I have it pulled up so Bake won't pull it (ouch). I go to get dressed and realize I have nothing to wear (seriously). I wear the same 5 outfits all the time and I need new clothes. But I want to lose weight first. And then there's the money issue. I throw something on, and then it's time for Bake's nap. He goes down and I decide to lay down too. Next thing I know, I hear him talking. I slept while he napped. Two hours wasted. I feel groggy from sleeping too long. We get up, eat lunch, and head out to run errands and head up to my moms for dinner since Andrew is working late. We visit while Baker plays and she asks if I'm doing okay. I tell her, yes, for the most part and tell her my frustrations with wanting to lose weight, clothes, feeling like I have no "me" time, etc. We talk and I feel good. Bake starts getting fussy so we head home. He's in bed now and I'm writing this, feeling an array of emotions. I was thinking about that journal entry from 8 years ago. I knew who I was then. Things were easy. All I had to worry about was me. And now, I am trying to figure out who I am as a mom. Trying to find time for myself (which is almost impossible with a husband who travels a lot for work). Time to work out. Time to get out by myself and do something fun. Time (and money) to get new clothes. It's hard. Harder than I ever thought it would be. I used to hear moms talk about "you need to make time for YOU!" and I always though, "Oh give me a break! It can't be THAT hard!" but now that I'm here, living the life that is motherhood, I'm like "Where the hell did MY time go?!" The transition from having a career and financial freedom and time to do whatever I wanted, to being on a tight budget and spending most of my days alone with an infant is so, so hard. 

The lyrics to "Am I the only one who's ever felt this way" by the Dixie Chicks came to mind tonight, 

"Now My Sense Of Humor Needs A Break
I See A Shadow In The Mirror
And She's Laughin' Through Her Tears
One More Smile's All I Can Fake

There Is A Wound Inside Me
And It's Bleeding Like A Flood
There's Times When I See A Light Ahead
Hope Is Not Enough
As Another Night Surrounds Me
And It Pounds Me Like A Wave
God Help Me
Am I The Only One Who's Ever Felt This Way?"

You guys, tell me I'm not the only one struggling with this. When/how did you figure out who you were as a mom? How do you make time for yourself?

***I feel like I need to offer some clarification regarding this post in conjunction with a few comments I've received (which were not published on here, by the way) . I'm not depressed. I just express myself best through writing. I don't regret motherhood at all. Lord knows how long I wanted to be a mother and the pain infertility brought, however I don't think that expressing my feelings of frustration or asking how other moms do it makes me a bad mom or less worthy of the title. I suppose I could just sit in silence and put on a brave face, but if you know me, then you know I'm a loud mouth woman who speaks my mind and goes on the occasional rant. ;)
My friend Tenae nailed it on the head when she said "I don't regret for one minute putting my career on hold but it sure was nice to feel accomplished & secure within myself."
That is the point I was trying to get across. Hence the two journal entries. One from when I had found myself in my twenties, single, rollin in the dough, and selfish with my time. The other was from now, showing how much things have changed (not necessarily for the worse) and how I'm trying to adjust to this big change that is motherhood.
Thank you to everyone to left encouraging comments. Don't worry, there is no ledge to talk me down from ;) ***

{a few thoughts}

Sometimes I just want to write and not worry about making it entertaining or funny. Most of the time, if I do just write random thoughts down, I don't end up posting them here. Well, I'm changing that. It's my blog and I'm letting my thoughts flow. Read on if you'd like.

I was reminded of a few things this week & these two quotes summed them up perfectly.

 Earlier last week I heard about an old acquaintance that had died. We went to the same church when we were kids & since we both went to different schools & lived in different neighborhoods, we didn't keep in touch. Hearing of his passing was really hard for me. The circumstances were incredibly unfortunate and while I was really sad for his friends & family, I was also angry. I speculated about what could have possibly caused him to take his own life. It made me think about intolerance, about misunderstanding & nonacceptance. I let myself dwell on this for awhile and then realized that it wasn't my place to speculate or judge.As someone who's struggled with depression personally, I was really upset to hear of another person succumbing to the hurt and pain. It's just really unfortunate.

It made me think a lot about life & our purpose. I thought about happiness and the things that truly make me happy. I also thought about making others happy. I realized I need to focus more on others- helping & serving. Random acts of kindness. Doing something every day that makes me happy & making time for the things that make me happy.

This is the other quote that really hit home...

So very true. Things are sometimes said in the heat of the moment. I'm guilty of not thinking before I speak from time to time. Don't we all? Lessons were learned and apologies made. I appreciate a good apology- it takes a lot to say you're sorry- even if you're not the one entirely at fault. It shows good character & no hard feelings. 

{on asking "why me?"}

I was listening to NPR while sitting in my car in the back of the Target parking lot, as I often do on my lunch break (it's so relaxing to me) when a phrase caught me by surprise.

The guest, David Rakoff was talking to Terry Gross about his cancer. His doctors told him that the cancer — a sarcoma in his neck — was caused by earlier radiation treatments he received for a bout with lymphoma in his 20s. When Terry asked him if he ever asked "Why me..." this was his reply....

"Writer Melissa Bank said it best: 'The only proper answer to 'Why me?' is 'Why not you?' The universe is anarchic and doesn't care about us and unfortunately, there's no greater rhyme or reason as to why it would be me. And since there is no answer as to why me, it's not a question I feel really entitled to ask. And in so many other ways, I'm so far ahead of the game. I have access to great medical care. My general baseline health, aside from the general unpleasantness of the cancer, is great. And it's great because I'm privileged to have great health. And I live in a country where I'm not making sneakers for a living and I don't live near a toxic waste dump. You can't win all the contests and then lose at one contest and say 'Why am I not winning this contest as well?' It's random. So truthfully, again, do I wish it weren't me? Absolutely. I still can't make that logistic jump to thinking there's a reason why it shouldn't be me."

His comment totally caught me off guard. For the longest time as I've struggled with infertility, I've thought a million times, "Why me?" But seriously, why not me? It's true- the universe is anarchic and there is no greater rhyme or reason as to why it would be me. I'm a religious, faithful person, which to be honest, sometimes makes it easier to ask "why me"?  If God does love me, why would he deny me the one thing I want the most? I've let myself get consumed with that thought more times than I'd like to admit, and it's so consuming that at times, I've almost drowned in it. Becoming bitter and envious over something you don't have is a very easy thing to do and it's something I struggle with every day. Every day I pray for understanding and guidance. I have often wondered why it's been so difficult to get pregant, but when I'm really at peace with it and with myself, I can get past the "why me" part.

I have to remind myself that God does love me. Not getting pregnant is not his way of punishing me. It's just the way things are. Bad things happen every day to everyone, and rather than dwell on the negative, I'm learning to focus on the positive. I want a baby so bad. I want to be pregnant. But I have to realize that while I can only do so much that's in my control, the rest is up to Him. I've also realized that there are things I can control. I might not ever get pregnant, but that doesn't mean I can't be a mom and raise children. I have a lot to be grateful for. My sweet husband, my family and supportive friends, my job, house and car, modern technology, and pants without holes. ;)

So why not me? I wish this was something I could just say, "I'm okay with it", and breathe a sigh of relief. If only it were that easy, right? But for now, I'm accepting it and knowing that thing will work out how they're supposed to.