Dec 2, 2014
I've now been walking this canser road for 8 months. Boy does time fly. If I were pregnant, in 2 months I'd have a new baby. In 2 months maybe I'll have my life back.
If 8 months seems long to adults, it likely feels like an eternity to a child. Our kids have been coping well.
Until now.
Today was rough. I got a call from BCSC saying they had a spot open up Dec 17 for their child psychologist. I jumped at the chance.
15 minutes later I got a call from Emmy's teacher. She had received the stamp and marker from Emily but was wondering if something had happened in the last week. When I told her no, she told me Emily had marked up the school floor with a marker by her backpack. She wouldn't fess up initially, but then finally did.
I didn't know what to say. She had just brought back the marker and sorry note that morning. My anxiety got the better of me and I saw a future of escalating issues and an unhappy child who was full of issues because of the breast canser.
Because of me. This was my fault.
I felt simultaneously sick and heartbroken.
I immediately called my mom. After our chat I decided to pick Emmy up at the bus stop and take her for lunch. I hoped she would talk to me.
Although I had no idea what I would say to her...
She was surprised to see me and even more so when I told her we were going for lunch. I asked about her day and when she wasn't forthcoming about the incident, I told her I got a call from her teacher. Her face froze.
I had her attention now.
But I felt awkward and wasn't very loquacious in guiding the conversation. I know there were a few "unacceptables" and some "I'm disappointed" in there but I felt like I was rambling. When we got to Subway and sat with our food, I turned the conversation over to her. I got the full story, which the teacher had told me, followed by a bunch of "I don't knows" when asked "why?".
My feeling of helplessness grew.
After chatting more about feelings, we finally got to the core issue.
"I'm feeling mad and sad about the breast canser. I just want you to be normal".
I blinked at her.
"Normal?".
"Ya, like back when you had hair and boobies."
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"Well, is there something I can do to make you feel better?"
"You could wear your wig and fake boobies all the time. Like at home and when we go out".
I think I'd make a great poker player cause my face belied none of the feelings brewing behind it.
"Well Em, I can't do that exactly, but sometimes I could wear the wig or fake boobs. But Mommy kinda likes her short hair and wearing the wig all the time wouldn't be so comfortable cause it can be hot. Mommy's also still healing from surgery, so wearing the boobs all the time would make me sore, but sometimes I can. Is there anything else that would help?".
"Sometimes your marks where your boobies were scare me a little bit. Maybe you could wear a bathing suit when you shower?".
Children call it as they see it, with complete honesty. I know that in my head, but this talk was hitting on all the insecurities I had felt since treatment - being bald, boobless and "unwomanly". Being seen as a monster. Freak. Thankfully I was moving forward enough in my acceptance of my physical changes that the only 'hurt' was that my child might be scared of me...
"Well honey, I have to wash in the shower so wearing a bathing suit isn't going to work. You'll just have to know Mommy's naked when I'm in the shower and either not come in till I'm done and dressed, or know you could see my marks if you choose to come in. But I will make extra sure I wear shirts or are covered up when I'm around you guys and when I got to bed. Would that help?"
She told me yes then changed the subject and after trying to talk more about it and not getting anywhere, I knew she was tapped out. I mentioned that although its OK to feel sad, or mad or scared, destroying stuff or doing things we aren't supposed to is not the answer. That there are consequences when we act out or misbehave. I asked her what she thought her punishment should be.
"Take all my toys out of my room?". (in the past we have removed certain items like her dollhouse etc) We decided both the toys and all her books would come out. The toys we to told her would come out for a set amount of time (a week) and the books would come out but every day she had good behaviour she could earn 1-2 books back (per day - she has over 50). We needed consequences that would set the tone that is it NOT acceptable to act out in this manner, to nip it in butt. But we felt having to earn her beloved books back was a way to encourage positive behaviour. We put the toys away so she couldn't play with them. We had no idea if this was sufficient, too harsh or too lenient but it's what we decided on and stuck to.
Instead of taking her back to our dayhome, I brought her home with me. We snuggled on the couch and watched Princess Bride. That night, Phil and Emmy had a good chat. He put it to her in a way that was much better than anything I told her.
"I feel mad and sad too sometimes but bad behaviour is not going to make those feelings go away. Talking about it will help. You can talk to us, Aunty or Uncle, or Grammy & Gramps, or Grandma & Grandpa, or even Tia Melys (dayhome). You can call any of them anytime you want. "
He can probably understand how she's feeling more than I can. Having this disease and living with someone you love with this disease are totally different. I hoped if she didn't open up to me, in future she might to Phil.
We had a nice bedtime. She understood having consequences to her actions and we understood she was hurting and that we needed to try harder to make sure those emotions had a constructive release. I told her tomorrow was a fresh day, a way to start over and try again.
I hope we grew a little as parents from this experience.
And as Annie sang in the background:
"...the sun will come out tomorrow..."
I've now been walking this canser road for 8 months. Boy does time fly. If I were pregnant, in 2 months I'd have a new baby. In 2 months maybe I'll have my life back.
If 8 months seems long to adults, it likely feels like an eternity to a child. Our kids have been coping well.
Until now.
Today was rough. I got a call from BCSC saying they had a spot open up Dec 17 for their child psychologist. I jumped at the chance.
15 minutes later I got a call from Emmy's teacher. She had received the stamp and marker from Emily but was wondering if something had happened in the last week. When I told her no, she told me Emily had marked up the school floor with a marker by her backpack. She wouldn't fess up initially, but then finally did.
I didn't know what to say. She had just brought back the marker and sorry note that morning. My anxiety got the better of me and I saw a future of escalating issues and an unhappy child who was full of issues because of the breast canser.
Because of me. This was my fault.
I felt simultaneously sick and heartbroken.
I immediately called my mom. After our chat I decided to pick Emmy up at the bus stop and take her for lunch. I hoped she would talk to me.
Although I had no idea what I would say to her...
She was surprised to see me and even more so when I told her we were going for lunch. I asked about her day and when she wasn't forthcoming about the incident, I told her I got a call from her teacher. Her face froze.
I had her attention now.
But I felt awkward and wasn't very loquacious in guiding the conversation. I know there were a few "unacceptables" and some "I'm disappointed" in there but I felt like I was rambling. When we got to Subway and sat with our food, I turned the conversation over to her. I got the full story, which the teacher had told me, followed by a bunch of "I don't knows" when asked "why?".
My feeling of helplessness grew.
After chatting more about feelings, we finally got to the core issue.
"I'm feeling mad and sad about the breast canser. I just want you to be normal".
I blinked at her.
"Normal?".
"Ya, like back when you had hair and boobies."
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"Well, is there something I can do to make you feel better?"
"You could wear your wig and fake boobies all the time. Like at home and when we go out".
I think I'd make a great poker player cause my face belied none of the feelings brewing behind it.
"Well Em, I can't do that exactly, but sometimes I could wear the wig or fake boobs. But Mommy kinda likes her short hair and wearing the wig all the time wouldn't be so comfortable cause it can be hot. Mommy's also still healing from surgery, so wearing the boobs all the time would make me sore, but sometimes I can. Is there anything else that would help?".
"Sometimes your marks where your boobies were scare me a little bit. Maybe you could wear a bathing suit when you shower?".
Children call it as they see it, with complete honesty. I know that in my head, but this talk was hitting on all the insecurities I had felt since treatment - being bald, boobless and "unwomanly". Being seen as a monster. Freak. Thankfully I was moving forward enough in my acceptance of my physical changes that the only 'hurt' was that my child might be scared of me...
"Well honey, I have to wash in the shower so wearing a bathing suit isn't going to work. You'll just have to know Mommy's naked when I'm in the shower and either not come in till I'm done and dressed, or know you could see my marks if you choose to come in. But I will make extra sure I wear shirts or are covered up when I'm around you guys and when I got to bed. Would that help?"
She told me yes then changed the subject and after trying to talk more about it and not getting anywhere, I knew she was tapped out. I mentioned that although its OK to feel sad, or mad or scared, destroying stuff or doing things we aren't supposed to is not the answer. That there are consequences when we act out or misbehave. I asked her what she thought her punishment should be.
"Take all my toys out of my room?". (in the past we have removed certain items like her dollhouse etc) We decided both the toys and all her books would come out. The toys we to told her would come out for a set amount of time (a week) and the books would come out but every day she had good behaviour she could earn 1-2 books back (per day - she has over 50). We needed consequences that would set the tone that is it NOT acceptable to act out in this manner, to nip it in butt. But we felt having to earn her beloved books back was a way to encourage positive behaviour. We put the toys away so she couldn't play with them. We had no idea if this was sufficient, too harsh or too lenient but it's what we decided on and stuck to.
Instead of taking her back to our dayhome, I brought her home with me. We snuggled on the couch and watched Princess Bride. That night, Phil and Emmy had a good chat. He put it to her in a way that was much better than anything I told her.
"I feel mad and sad too sometimes but bad behaviour is not going to make those feelings go away. Talking about it will help. You can talk to us, Aunty or Uncle, or Grammy & Gramps, or Grandma & Grandpa, or even Tia Melys (dayhome). You can call any of them anytime you want. "
He can probably understand how she's feeling more than I can. Having this disease and living with someone you love with this disease are totally different. I hoped if she didn't open up to me, in future she might to Phil.
We had a nice bedtime. She understood having consequences to her actions and we understood she was hurting and that we needed to try harder to make sure those emotions had a constructive release. I told her tomorrow was a fresh day, a way to start over and try again.
I hope we grew a little as parents from this experience.
And as Annie sang in the background:
"...the sun will come out tomorrow..."
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