Everything, Nothing, and I'm a Middle Child

My mother is having surgery on Thursday. They found a mass that is encompassing both her ovaries. My parents measured a pineapple - it's about that size (yikes!).

We all seem to be handling it pretty well - on the outside. If everyone else is anything like me, our insides are screaming "NOOOO!" We all talked about my mother having a reprieve, and that this might make it even more difficult if/when cancer returns. I suppose we're all holding our breath - super, super hard - hoping that her surgery will come and go and we'll just go back to happy normalcy, and fearing that this is simple futility.

With my schedule (10 hours of nursing, 8 hours of burping/rocking, 6 hours to sleep, eat, shower, etc.) I have A LOT of thinking time - too much, I'd say. I often sit on the couch, nursing Liam, and think (or perhaps "sit stunned" is a better description) "she's 55." You'd think that with all the time we've had since my mother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, that I wouldn't be so stunned and so completely confounded by how this became our reality.

I watch my mother holding and enjoying Liam with a certain sadness. I know she's thinking that this is for all the future moments when she won't be able to do this - with Liam or any of her other (hypothetical) grandchildren.

And on that happy note, back to life!