I was reminiscing today about my oldest child and her battle with brain cancer. On another blog site that I used to use, I wrote a few posts about it.
This is an old post from April of 2011 called Mothers Are Superheroes. At the time, I wrote it because people kept remarking about how strong I was. I remember thinking then that there was something about being a mother that brought out a special type of inner strength and resiliency in women. Mothers really are superheroes.
Mothers Are Superheroes 4/2011
This experience has been the most emotional, horrendous, moving, exhausting experience in my life.
So many people have called me strong. That word has stuck with me through out this experience. It always makes me want to kind of step back and say, no I’m not. I’m just a mom. The word keeps coming up and keeps sticking with me. So much so that I just have to address it.
I have always thought that there is a special and unique spirit that only a mother possesses. There are mothers and there are mothers. So not every woman that has a child and is called mother is a mother. This I know. But when I speak about mothers, I am talking about that special gift to a person’s world that is essential to a persons being. It’s spiritual.
I have always been thankful for mothers. Women who carry a baby in their womb and think and worry and pray and cry and shout and laugh over that baby/child’s life and future. Like God, a mother loves their child from the womb. And it is often all encompassing.
With that said, a year ago when we found out that my first born child had a brain tumor. It rocked my world. Because I knew it would change my child’s world. But we have been on this journey and fighting this fight for this past year. And among all other things, a mother is a fighter. She is a soldier. She surveys the landscape and circumstance of her child and prepares to meet the coming enemy with her might. Sometimes she will win and sometimes she will lose. But she fights nonetheless. And sometimes, she has a whole army with her. I have had so much support from my family and friends and even strangers. A whole army of people with well wishes, kind thoughts and words.
Through out this year, I have had my mind set against the Big “C” word. Hopefully, the tumor is not cancer. That was my mantra. But then the tumor was cancer. But it is a “curable cancer” it responds well to chemo and radiation and they believe they can get it all. Now the radiation may cause problems 20 years or so down the line but even those should respond well to chemo/radiation.
So now, we have a name. The enemy has a face. And we face the enemy. My daughter is strong. She takes this and keeps on going and planning. That makes me stronger.
Sometimes, I cry. But I don’t allow myself to wallow in a river of tears. Sometimes, I look at my daughter and feel sad at her laying in the hospital bed. But then I think about how blessed we are that it is not worse. We have seen other children in this hospital on this floor who’s story breaks my heart. My heart goes out to their mothers. They are so strong. And the children are always smiling.
I think that says a lot. It says that you can deal with what is placed in your path. It may be hard. It may make you cry. But you still put one foot in front of the other and walk.
So to everyone who thinks I am strong. You should know that I am just a mother. And I’ve always known that mother’s are super hero’s.