Kids, cuddles & cancer

 

I discovered this little clip today and I have bought the book. Visual explanations make it so much easier for kids to understand a situation, not to mention adults! And I really don't want my kids to freak out when I lose my hair during chemo. It's just a different look which is perfectly ok. Besides, I'll be going to town on gorgeous headscarves, fabulous hats and even when the mood takes me, being bold braving it bald.

Kids are so perceptive, far more than we tend to give them credit for.

I explained to Harry at the beginning that I had a sore booby and that the doctor was taking my sore booby away and giving me a brand new one. He got it...didn't seem particularly phased about it, just a little worried that it would make me feel sad. But with some reassurance on my part he seemed satisfied that all would work out ok.

Jack doesn't understand why Mummy can't pick him up, or carry him or give him her usual big squishy hugs. He doesn't understand why I'm so tentative around him, why I spend so much time in bed, why Daddy and Nana have been doing everything for him. Of course he's too young to understand, he's still just a baby but not for much longer. All too soon he will get the picture.

The hardest thing about this journey is the physical barrier cancer has set between me and my children. Before cancer I would hug and dance and wrestle them, pick them up and kiss them a thousand times a day. They can be sitting right beside me and it feels a million miles away because I can't consume them with both my arms, squeezing them tight against my chest in a big warm mummy hug. And it hurts my heart.

As much as I have sometimes complained about doing night patrol and felt frustrated about having to resettle one or both of the boys every night, I have always treasured being the sole source of comfort that helps them back to sleep. I miss picking Jack up out of his cot in the mornings or rocking him with his head tucked into my neck while I sing him his lullaby at bedtime. I miss having him perched on my hip while I'm bustling about in the kitchen. I miss having both boys nestled in on either side of me while we sit on the couch and read books. I miss the lovely long snuggles with Harry at bedtime, where we discuss what kind of fantastical things will fill his dreams each night. I am a tactile person and such a restriction has been incredibly difficult.

But I have things in perspective. I am very grateful that it is only temporary. I haven't lost the use of my arms completely and once my second mastectomy is well and truly behind me things will return to normal. I am learning to love my children better through other avenues...through listening, through conversation. That in itself is a bit of a gift isn't it...that in itself is making me into a better Mummy.

 

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