Welcome to Motherhood…Again!

You may or may not have noticed my seven week absence from the work of blogging. You may have assumed I'd decided to stop writing once Aria was finally home with us. You may have wondered where I'd gone and if everything was alright in my world. The short answer to all of the statements above is:

Holy CRAP! Being a new mommy is a LOT of work!

Yes, I'm fully aware of the fact that this is not my first time at the circus. But, being that my boys are now 11 and 13, starting from step one is almost like having to learn the basics all over again. And some things have actually changed! When my boys were newborns we were told to have them sleep on their sides. They even had side-sleepers you could buy in the store if rolling a receiving blanket and propping the baby up on it was too much work for you. Now it's back-sleeping only, unless you're awake and available to check on them every five minutes to make sure they aren't suffocating themselves. But, for the most part, it's all coming back to me. Well, aside from the girl thing. Changing a girl's poopy diaper is a lot more challenging than changing a boy's poopy diaper. Let me explain without getting into too much detail. With a boy, you move it to one side, wipe the mess, move it to the other side, wipe the mess, clean up the backend however it's easiest, throw on a new diaper and, voila! Clean baby! A girl, however, has many, many more creases and crevices and nooks and crannies for the poop to hide. It takes a lot of spreading and investigating to really get them clean. And don't forget to wipe front to back only! Poor Jimmi gets so uncomfortable when he has to handle the stinky ones on his own, but he's a trooper and pushes through!

Speaking of Jimmi…I've never seen the man so in love with another woman. My heart explodes each time I see him with her, talking to her and kissing her and telling her how beautiful she is and how much he loves her. It doesn't hurt that she looks EXACTLY like him! I must've taken 1000 photos of the two of them because I need to know it's real, and not just my mind showing me what I want to see.

And the boys love having a sister, too! They read to her and sing to her and watch her while I clean up or take a shower. She's been such a perfect addition to our family and she was worth every minute we had to wait for her.

And I must tell you about Lyndsay. She's doing great! She still has good days and not so good days, but her doctor mentioned, on more than one occasion, that she is very lucky to still be around to tell the tale of Aria's crazy birth. Aria is eight weeks old and Lyndsay will finally be cleared to go back to work this coming Monday. We are still is awe of Lyndsay's incredible strength and resilience.

Two months. How is my little baby two months old already? 

Since her birth she's grown almost four inches and five pounds! She can hold her head up, smile and coo. She loves to smile and "talk" to her invisible friends who gather around her changing table. Jimmi and I are convinced they must be our grandparents or her sisters who were lost at 9 weeks gestation. But our games of "Repeat the Sound" are her favorites, as seen here:

(If the video isn't embedded, copy and paste this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqdZwN3-Rb4&feature=youtu.be)

Because of Aria, for the first time in the last three years, I've been able to forget about cancer. Well, not completely forget about it. But I've been so busy and so completely wrapped up in my beautiful creation that The Big C hasn't been able to take over my thoughts and ruin my days. But I knew, eventually, I'd have to start the countdown again. And now is the time. 

T-minus 2 days until my next CT scan.

Yes, it's that time again. The week when I start nervously bingeing on as much chocolate as I can find. The week when I'll bite your head off if I don't like the way you say, "hello." The week when my heart beats so loudly in my head it keeps me awake at night. No matter how many times I've prepared for scan week, it never gets easier. And now I have a whole new set of worries. What will happen to little Aria if my cancer is back? Who will feed her and dress her and comfort her if I'm too sick? What if I die? My baby will never remember me. The boys are older now. That doesn't mean it would be easy for them to handle a recurrence, but at least they'd remember me if I didn't make it. Would Aria grow up calling someone else, "Mommy"?

Yes, these are the sick thoughts that travel through my pounding head. Friday will be here soon and my destiny will be revealed shorty after my body is scanned from knees to neck. Bad news will send me into a whirlwind of tests and treatments and good news will give me peace of mind…but only for the next three months until I start the countdown again.