The reality of the situation didn't really hit until a couple of months ago. John and I were walking through Target doing some shopping when we passed the section that has all of the UTSA, UT, and Texas A&M shirts and caps. Among them: baby onesies (sp?). I stopped, grabbed one of the UTSA onesies, commented on how cute it was, and put it back. That's when it hit. I started having flashes of our future family, of babies that were not yet to be, and who knows when they would be. I lost it. I started sobbing right there in the store. We ducked into an empty aisle, which is hard to find at Target, and John just held me and let me cry it out. We ended our shopping trip fairly quickly and went home.
Until that point I hadn't allowed myself to think about having kids since the diagnosis. Even though we were able to successfully complete fertility treatments and an egg extraction before starting chemo, I knew if I thought about it too much it would ruin me. I knew I would only be able to focus on what cancer was taking away from me, not what it was giving me and teaching me. I knew I would fall into a hole so deep, it would be hard to climb out. So I didn't think about it.
Now that the initial breakdown is over, every now and then I give myself permission to think about it, and it doesn't hurt as much any more. Instead of mourning a possible loss, I have hope. Whether it's children of our own, or whether it's children of our own by means of adoption, I know one day we'll be able to have a family.
The other day I was listening to Pandora and one of my favorite bands popped up with this song. If I did my research correctly, it's either a song to a future love, or a future child. Either way, my heart took it as a letter to a future child. It gave me so much comfort and so much hope. It definitely made my heart happy.
"I've missed you but I haven't met you
Oh how I want to
Dear whoever you might be
I'm still waiting patiently"
