I've moved from a state of constant worry to numbness. I'm not sure that I want to live in this place indefinitely, but it's a welcome reprieve. I'm in full business mode - booking appointments, scheduling flights, reserving hotel rooms. It is giving me something to focus on and DO rather than sit idly and worry.

The hardest part right now is the not knowing. I guess, knowing he's going to be in the best hands, makes the not knowing a little bit easier this time. What kind of cancer are we dealing with, anyway? Is this a recurrence or an entirely different beast? What will the treatment look like? How long will it last? Will he be able to work? Can he receive treatment back home? Will he be home with the boys for Christmas?

I was LONGING for a normal holiday this year. There was almost no joy in Christmas last year, despite the birth of a perfect and beautiful baby boy we had prayed & longed for. The wonder was choked out by the reality of surgeries, chemotherapy, and frequent hospitalizations. Death hung heavy in the air. We had NO idea what to expect next. It was suffocating. Combine that with the stress of caring for a new baby, a severe lack of sleep, & a major bout of post partum anxiety and you had a recipe for the perfect storm.

I suppose if this situation has taught me anything, I'm learning that we can wish away our lives waiting for the next milestone. We get so caught up in the next THING we fail to appreciate the moment that we're in. "When we get the news he's cancer free..." "When Christmas rolls around..." "When he's out of the hospital..." We're putting our hope for a brighter tomorrow in a future that isn't guaranteed. Maybe it's a bit cynical - after all, we've been put in a situation few people our age face... or maybe it's just realistic. But I feel like we need to stop looking so much to the future and start trying to make the best out of the ugly moments that we're mucking around in.

Speaking of ugly moments - we had a dark spot a few days ago. We KNEW he needed to go to MD Anderson. We knew, at this point, being in the right place was a matter of life or death. We knew money SHOULD be no object... and yet we kept wavering on what to do, as the financial burden of traveling out of state (even just for the initial consultation) was crushing. We were BARELY starting to recover (in every way) from the first diagnosis. We were trying to make a decision about whether Graham should drive the two days to Houston to save money on a plane ticket, when we heard the news that a coworker had created a GoFund me page to help assist us with Graham's medical expenses. It is something we would never have had the courage to ask for ourselves, but someone stepped in for us - knowing what we needed better than we knew ourselves.

The weight that has been lifted by the generosity of others is like nothing you can imagine. Cancer steals away your control. You can't control the disease, the emotions, the treatment, the response. You are at the mercy of a disease you are powerless to. Having the financial weight lifted gave us back a sense of control & power over this disease. We can make decisions that are in Graham's best MEDICAL interest vs. our practical and financial interest. That in itself is SO healing.

So here's to brighter days ahead. Wherever they may be, and whatever they may contain. Here's to looking less toward the future and spending more time in the present. It may not be idyllic here, but at least we've made it to this point.