Why did you marry someone who can’t have kids?
I’ve had my ups and downs in life just like everyone else. Everyone asks how I stay so positive during blow after blow of bad news. Some people have asked me if I have “mourned” yet. And up until recently I have not entirely understood what I needed to mourn. I have also read blog after blog about how people say the craziest things to people with cancer. And again I didn’t understand that until recently, either.
Working in the disability field I'm used to subtly correcting people because people truly don’t know what to say in an uncomfortable situation. But recently, I have heard the most hurtful things that even I couldn't push aside. Of course I tried, but after a month I finally broke down.
I’m strong, I'm a Capricorn. We are strong, confident people for the most part. But I'm not indestructible, and I can feel. I mean, I feel all the time! I feel fear, sadness, loss, disappointment, and so much more. I’m just great at hiding these things. But it’s getting to a point where it’s time to show this side of cancer.
Before cancer, I held off having kids because I wanted to get married and be ready. I knew that there is not a perfect time to have kids, but this was definitely something Martin & I were planning in the near future. Then I got breast cancer. I tried so hard to preserve my eggs in hopes that when I beat this I would still be able to have kids. I had all the pre-shots and an action plan. Then I was magically upgraded to Stage 4 days before we were starting the egg preservation shots. I went through months where I prepared myself for death. Things are a little better now. So, it’s not surprising I'm now needing to mourn my loss.
I lost my fertility. I will not have kids. Cancer is not all butterflies, but it truly is battled in the face of unimaginable losses.
So when – a few weeks ago during a heated conversation – the words, “why did he marry her anyway when she can’t even have kids” passed the lips of someone who is supposed to love us, I tried to not let it affect me. This family I am using as an example is famous for harsh and thoughtless comments, so I was by no means surprised. But now, after a few weeks, I cannot get the words out of my head. Why? Why not just let it go? Life is so short; why let THAT bring me down? Well, because they were more than just words. Those words made my whole picture complete – in the sense of THIS SUCKS!
I usually hold my head high. And I see the positives in having this disease wherever they are. Sometimes it’s like finding a needle in a haystack, but I do! But living knowing I'm affecting my husband’s life and the lives of many other people is tough. I know that his mother wanted more grandkids, and I'm sorry I can’t give her that. I know Martin didn’t have a father growing up and would love to be a dad. And, again, I'm sorry.
I’m sorry I'm going to die and you will be alone. I’m sorry I got cancer and it hurts you too. I’m sorry I’m not as good at working because I lose my memory and thought constantly. And mostly I'm sorry to myself, because I hoped I would be strong enough to follow the saying: “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never break me.”
I’m not broken. I won’t let this destroy me. I will rise again, like I always do. And I will support my husband anyway I can through this, just as he supports me every day.
The simple moral to this story is that we all go through rough patches. But, think before you speak. I haven’t had all my life circumstances yet, and I'm not sure what they all will be. But there really is so much good, even where there is so much bad. Maybe we will adopt some day – just like my parents did – or maybe we will stumble across another option that is right for us. I couldn’t imagine having a kid with everything that is going on right now. But for me, the loss of my fertility might have been my biggest loss.
Well, anyway, my apologizes for the not-so-uplifting post, but sometimes awareness is sharing your story in its entirety. For me, sharing this part of metastatic breast cancer is probably the hardest. It is in these moments of living with cancer when it feels most real. Many of us are so incredibly strong that it’s easy to look past these deeper struggles we face, and cope with, from time to time.