Today I am working on writing my cancer journey memoir. Since 4 years ago today my neurosurgeon removed the tumor from my brain that would later be diagnosed as glioblastoma, I decided to edit this portion of my book. I am excited to share the following SNEAK PEEK of this portion of my memoir with you, below!!!!!
I held my baby boy at my breast that early morning one last precious time. We were alone in my dark walk-in closet, his make-shift bedroom that I often had bemoaned – his cries so close to my sleeping head, never letting me get enough rest. I was surprised he had not woken from the commotion of us getting ready. This boy who loved to smile, laugh and wake up oh so early lay peacefully fast asleep, zipped cozy in his sleep sack. On an average day I would have been so thankfully pleased that he was still asleep. But today was far from average. In this sleepy monumental moment in this closet, I reached into Garrett’s bed and picked up his warm body. I sat on the carpeted floor sort of cross-legged, one leg propped up, my back awkwardly hunched in this familiar position as I held my boy, my son, my legacy, tenderly to my full breasts. I stroked his blonde hair fondly as he nursed. I was always grateful during early morning wake-ups that I could breastfeed and didn’t need to warm a bottle. This day I was also grateful that, though the tumor pressing on my brain meant I couldn’t care for this boy by myself, nor could I type or handwrite words of love for him, one last time my broken body could still nourish his body. Perhaps, I thought, the most tender moment a mother can have with her son is nurturing him with her own body. His warmth comforted me, so I lingered even once he stopped suckling. This was the last moment I would ever breastfeed; but, I had no time to ponder those emotions. It was only days later, when I was recovering from my brain surgery and my breasts turned strangely and uncomfortably lumpy, that I fully contemplated how this tumor forced my hand to wean my babies. Instead I kissed my son’s head. My son who often left me exhausted, exacerbated and at the edge of myself. My son who now teaches me what it is like to simultaneously be tender-hearted and so very strong. My son who I love with my whole heart. My son who I want to see grow up, who I want to cheer on in whatever athletic endeavor he might pursue. My son, who I will never stop cheering for and fighting for. I kissed this sweet boy one more time quickly on the forehead before being whisked away to have my own head cut open.
Thank you for joining me on my journey! Keep following on my website, facebook and instagram for further updates, it’s really starting to feel like one day soon I’ll actually be able to hold this memoir in my hands!
XOXO,
Cheryl
