So I’m not feeling particularly funny or witty today. Perhaps it’s because even if I feel I’m strong and can get through this, it’s seeing how my two daughters react to my going to hospital again that’s got me feeling vulnerable.
Our children are everything to us. To see them hurt, physically or emotionally can tear us up. Both Monkey and Bimble were extremely upset when I told them I was going back into hospital. I explained everything to them. That I was getting a bilateral mastectomy with breast reconstruction. I hugged them when they sobbed, and cried along with them.
My heart broke because they are so little, having their mum in hospital is terrifying. Then to think that when I go home I won’t be the same. Scarred. Different. A Franken-Mum. Eventually their tears and sobs died down when we started to make jokes about it. How I had Bad Boobs that needed to go. We giggled over how weird I would look without nipples. And how in the end mummy may have bigger boobs.
But, at least it’s me that’s going through this. Any one of us, as parents, would give our life in a heartbeat if it meant our child would live. In the nuclear ward a few weeks ago I saw a little girl getting an MRI. Because she was so young she had been sedated. Her mum sat in a corner crying silently. I wanted to give that little girl a hug and to take some of her pain away.
At least it’s me that’s going through this. Not my beautiful daughters.
This morning we dropped them off at school as usual. But my hugs and kisses were not the usual. I hugged them harder. Showered their beautiful faces with a hundred kisses. And tried not to let them see the tears welling, and tried to suppress the sob in the back of my throat.
Why do we have children? To keep the family line going? To have someone look after us in old age? Maybe it’s to make us understand the meaning of fully unconditional love. To be loved unconditionally. To have your child hug you, it actually does make you feel better. It makes me feel so good, so loved.
And I can’t wait to get their squishy hugs when I see them again. Soon.
But for now, surgery awaits. Let’s do it.