I don't understand how I could get an embryo transfer on 1st September last year, and the embryo took. And then the embryo grew, and grew, and grew into a baby. And then, four days before the baby was about to come out, my husband could be diagnosed with cancer. So then, the whole world went topsy-turvy and suddenly my husband had started the fight of his life, my pregnancy was forgotten, Mr TC was sick sick sick.
What kind of competition in hell did I win? I'm not on speaking terms with God at the moment; in fact, I DID say a prayer to him the other day, when Mr TC was having his bone biopsy ...
Dear God,
Even though you're a motherfucking arsehole, can you please make sure Mr TCs bone marrow biopsy goes ok for him today.
Topcat.
Know what happened? The fuckers took FIVE GOES to get the needle into his bone marrow.
Mr TC has stage 3 agg.ressive no.n-hodg.kins lymp.hom.a. (I have to keep disguising that with dots, otherwise avid googling family and friends of ours might stumble across my blog. Then I would have to run away and start a new life in Mexico .... actually, that's not a bad idea.)
He has had one night at home since Monkey has been born. I was supposed to go and pick him up today for a triumphant homecoming .... but he started his chemo yesterday. I texted him this morning, because MY googling led me to discover the first bout of chemo always knocks you for a six. Mr TC could hardly speak, hardly think, he has been throwing up all night.
I don't know if he can come home now.
I have two sons. Did you know you can be married AND be a single parent at the same time?
My wonderful, beautiful, amazing, much longed-for miracle IVF baby is 13 days old. He has dimples. His hair looks red in the sunlight. He sleeps a lot. He is so fucking good looking it's not funny. He is calm and placid, my magnificent sisters both agree that it's like he knew he had to be. He's not fussy at all. I'm quite laid back with him, let him have a little cry when he needs to and don't stress over every little thing. His legs haven't unfurled yet. He is much smaller than Tiger was. He sucked his hands in the womb, so has quite a strong suction on him when it comes to breastfeeding! I call him my little mothersucker. Sometimes I call him his secret blog name ... Monkey. It suits him. His belly button thingy fell off last night. His daddy knows none of these things.
I live in a beautiful part of the world. Compared to Sydney, it's a really small community up here. Which is good. And bad. The mums at Tigers school have done up a roster, to pick him up and drop him off from school every day, plus we get someone delivering a yummy dinner every single night! Isn't that amazing. (Even though I'm so standoffish with most people! Tee said "Gee, can you imagine if you had actually been NICE.") I mean, I am nice .... I guess I'm just reserved, as I don't go around telling people I'm a recovering alcoholic/junkie. And when people don't know that about me, I always feel like I'm holding back, like they don't really know me. (Or if they did, they wouldn't want to!)
Now, I am the freak who's husband got cancer days before she gave birth. EVERYONE knows. I have been in lockdown mode, these past 2 weeks. Not answering my phone or the front door. I can't. Some people are genuinely, lovingly worried about us ... other people are just curious fuckwits, slowing down to view the car crash. Fuck OFF.
The next post I do will be all about Monkeys birth, with some amazing photos. I keep looking down at him, willing myself to be in the moment, right there with him, soaking him up and drinking him in. His birth has been tainted, overlooked, almost forgotten. Yesterday, I put the biggest, longest, extravagent birth notice in the paper. Cost nearly sixty bucks, but I didn't care. A new, beautiful soul has entered the world and goddamit I will remind people that it has been a happy time too. Has it? Can you be happy when you look down at your newborn and wonder if he will ever know his dad? And my precious little 6 year old Tiger .... he is sick of different people minding him. His life has been turned upside down. Today I am pouring all of my love out onto him, doing only fun things, paying him my whole attention. We will go the park and the video shop and buy hot chips, and I will chat cheerily to him, and pretend it's just a normal day.
After cooking and baby minding and doing SO much, my sister Rex left yesterday. We were doing fine, and I felt strong ..... until I went out to get some wood in for the fire, looked up, and saw the biggest, blackest, hairiest huntsman spider, right near the wood pile. I freaked out and ran inside, panicked and scared and crying. Mr TC always gets the spiders for me .... teasing me about my biggest fear.
I hadn't cried all day, but fuck I bawled over that stupid fucking spider.
The fire went out.
What kind of competition in hell did I win? I'm not on speaking terms with God at the moment; in fact, I DID say a prayer to him the other day, when Mr TC was having his bone biopsy ...
Dear God,
Even though you're a motherfucking arsehole, can you please make sure Mr TCs bone marrow biopsy goes ok for him today.
Topcat.
Know what happened? The fuckers took FIVE GOES to get the needle into his bone marrow.
Mr TC has stage 3 agg.ressive no.n-hodg.kins lymp.hom.a. (I have to keep disguising that with dots, otherwise avid googling family and friends of ours might stumble across my blog. Then I would have to run away and start a new life in Mexico .... actually, that's not a bad idea.)
He has had one night at home since Monkey has been born. I was supposed to go and pick him up today for a triumphant homecoming .... but he started his chemo yesterday. I texted him this morning, because MY googling led me to discover the first bout of chemo always knocks you for a six. Mr TC could hardly speak, hardly think, he has been throwing up all night.
I don't know if he can come home now.
I have two sons. Did you know you can be married AND be a single parent at the same time?
My wonderful, beautiful, amazing, much longed-for miracle IVF baby is 13 days old. He has dimples. His hair looks red in the sunlight. He sleeps a lot. He is so fucking good looking it's not funny. He is calm and placid, my magnificent sisters both agree that it's like he knew he had to be. He's not fussy at all. I'm quite laid back with him, let him have a little cry when he needs to and don't stress over every little thing. His legs haven't unfurled yet. He is much smaller than Tiger was. He sucked his hands in the womb, so has quite a strong suction on him when it comes to breastfeeding! I call him my little mothersucker. Sometimes I call him his secret blog name ... Monkey. It suits him. His belly button thingy fell off last night. His daddy knows none of these things.
I live in a beautiful part of the world. Compared to Sydney, it's a really small community up here. Which is good. And bad. The mums at Tigers school have done up a roster, to pick him up and drop him off from school every day, plus we get someone delivering a yummy dinner every single night! Isn't that amazing. (Even though I'm so standoffish with most people! Tee said "Gee, can you imagine if you had actually been NICE.") I mean, I am nice .... I guess I'm just reserved, as I don't go around telling people I'm a recovering alcoholic/junkie. And when people don't know that about me, I always feel like I'm holding back, like they don't really know me. (Or if they did, they wouldn't want to!)
Now, I am the freak who's husband got cancer days before she gave birth. EVERYONE knows. I have been in lockdown mode, these past 2 weeks. Not answering my phone or the front door. I can't. Some people are genuinely, lovingly worried about us ... other people are just curious fuckwits, slowing down to view the car crash. Fuck OFF.
The next post I do will be all about Monkeys birth, with some amazing photos. I keep looking down at him, willing myself to be in the moment, right there with him, soaking him up and drinking him in. His birth has been tainted, overlooked, almost forgotten. Yesterday, I put the biggest, longest, extravagent birth notice in the paper. Cost nearly sixty bucks, but I didn't care. A new, beautiful soul has entered the world and goddamit I will remind people that it has been a happy time too. Has it? Can you be happy when you look down at your newborn and wonder if he will ever know his dad? And my precious little 6 year old Tiger .... he is sick of different people minding him. His life has been turned upside down. Today I am pouring all of my love out onto him, doing only fun things, paying him my whole attention. We will go the park and the video shop and buy hot chips, and I will chat cheerily to him, and pretend it's just a normal day.
After cooking and baby minding and doing SO much, my sister Rex left yesterday. We were doing fine, and I felt strong ..... until I went out to get some wood in for the fire, looked up, and saw the biggest, blackest, hairiest huntsman spider, right near the wood pile. I freaked out and ran inside, panicked and scared and crying. Mr TC always gets the spiders for me .... teasing me about my biggest fear.
I hadn't cried all day, but fuck I bawled over that stupid fucking spider.
The fire went out.
12 comments:
TC, I only wish that I lived near enough to be of some material help....
xx
J
Oh, TC. I am just having such a hard time understanding all of this. I hope your husband feels better soon. The side effects are no good.
And I am glad you have 2 beautiful boys to love and take care of, though I am sure it would be much better as a team with Mr. TC.
Love you.
P.S. ALL SPIDERS ARE HERETOFORE INSTRUCTED TO STAY AWAY FROM TOPCAT UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. THANK YOU, THE MANAGEMENT.
From one new mother to another, will be thinking of you.
----<----@
Wow, sure wish I could come kill that spider for you, but alas, I would be right there in the house bawling with you. I hate those things!!!!
Hoping things are going a little better for Mr. TC soon, and he is able to catch up on all the little baby things that are going on.
I know it sucks right now, and yes, there are people that will slow down to see the crash. While they are slowed down you might as well get them to toss you some help. I mean really, it can't hurt? You get something off the fuckwits and they get --- not a lot of show because you are handling it well! There's some real poetic justice for you, eh?
Your sisters sound way-cool. I didn't have sisters. :( I got 2 older brothers. They have their good points I guess though. :)
Oh TopCat, I'd kill your spiders for you if I were there. I'm still just so sorry you're having to endure this right now, or ever...but right now especially. Maybe it just means that Mr. TC will be all better by the time Monkey gets to the really fun stages of babyhood. You guys are in my prayers!!
Sending you and your family healing vibes. Much love to you, TC.
You are going through such a horrible mixture of heaven and hell right now. My thoughts are with you all.
We all know a lot about you and still want to know you- don't be so hard on yourself! You're doing amazingly for the crap that has been furled upon your life right now. I also wish I was closer so that I could help out a bit. You will get through this just like you've gotten through all the other hills and valleys of your life...you're a strong woman that little Monkey and Tiger are so so so lucky to have as their mum!
i wish i lived closer to help in some way! youare in my thoughts
Hugs, hugs, and more hugs coming your way from me.
I am glad that there are people there who are willing to help out, even if it is a little strange for you to receive all the offers. (I so wish I could be one of them.) Try to let them help whenever possible. I do think most people have the best intentions at heart. It says a lot that they are that willing to help out even though you feel like you've been reserved. I am sure that they would be just as willing to help out if/when they knew your history, too. You are a very likeable person!
You are not a freak. You are a woman who is facing incredible stress and threats to the wellbeing of your family. You are strong. You are capable. You are amazing.
I still send positive vibes your way and think of you often.
Much love,
Stacie
So very, very sorry for the news that it's stage 3. I have been hoping that you would finally get some less-than-awful news. I can't imagine how difficult this must be, but you've got people all over the world praying for Mr. TC's health.
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