As previously stated, I'm lucky enough to be pregnant, again. Our new little one is expected in mid-spring. I am excited for that, except for one thing, it's causing me to have some emotional distress. Most would say, of course having a third child when you are permanently disabled, your husband is in the Navy, and you need to find ways to make your older house work for a big family, would cause some emotional distress. That's not the part that is bothering me the most. I will find a way to make everything work, that's the way my mind works. I see problems and do my best to find logical or even totally out-of-the-box, zany ideas to help find a solution. I've always been like that. But now, I'm facing something where the only solution is the one thing I do not want to do. Let me explain further:
In late May YACC is having their Survivor Conference in Toronto. I have attended this every year since my diagnosis. One year it was canceled, that broke a lot of our hearts, but they needed to do it. In that case there was nothing that could be done about it. I couldn't attend another Retreat, those are a one shot thing, unless there are re-occurrences or the like. This time, this time... This time I face three options for Conference.
1. Attend Conference solo as I have the other years and pretend I can leave with a potentially two week old at home with my husband and not have my heart ripped apart from being separated from my new family.
2. Attend Conference with my husband and bring along our new son... A two week old... Either drive to Ontario or take a two week old on a flight... And stay in a hotel that isn't that well set up (last I saw it) for caring for young children.
3. Don't go.
Of course a lot of readers will say, "Duh, you go with choice number three!" There's a small problem with that. This is the one time of the year I get to see my friends through YACC. The one time of the year where we are all cancer survivors, all young adults, all dealing with the isolation we have all year long. We are at different stages in our lives/cancer journey, but we're not being surrounded with 60 and 70 year olds, telling us that we're "so young", "well don't worry about that, I didn't", and "you won't want to worry about those things once your older". We're able to meet up and celebrate being around for another year, able to mourn as a group all those we lost since last year, and able to draw on each others strength to make it another 365 days until we get to feel that empty spot in our lives filled, again.
Yes, I should not give it a second thought. I should just say that I, logically, need to go with option number three... As I sit at home and have tears running down my face. As my heart breaks once more, like when I found out we would not be having a Conference the next year. It's just not seeing those friends again. It's just not seeing that family, because they are more than simply friends. It's just not connecting with those new people, giving them friendship and hope. It's just being scared of who won't be there next year when I might be able to go. It's just one more year. Just a broken heart. It'll just mend with time, I hope. Until then, I'm just lost inside.
No comments:
Post a Comment