The weeks that followed the diagnosis were such a blur, so many tests were scheduled for my husband that the three weeks that he had taken for paternity leave disappeared before we knew it. It was very surreal, everything seemed so normal except for the diagnosis. We were adjusting to life with an infant, helping her sisters learn how to be the helpers they were so desperate to be, grocery shopping, enjoying the short stints of company of wonderful friends who brought us food.... but Daddy was sick, and we could barely speak about it.
I remember getting my mind locked in the worst case scenario, and beating myself up royally for it. I couldn't control the tears, they seemed to come constantly. Every time daddy went outside to play with the girls I would stand at the door and watch and wonder how many more opportunities they would have to create these memories together. When he'd hold the baby, I would fall apart wondering if he would be around to see her crawl. Would he be there to walk K down the aisle at her wedding? Writing this feels so melodramatic and so far from the reality we were facing, but I was terrified. Terrified to loose my husband, terrified that there was not a thing I could do about it. I couldn't control it and I couldn't fix it. I hate to admit that I still feel this way.
We had many discussions on how we would talk to K (the feisty 5 year old) and H (the quiet 3 year old). We finally landed on keeping with what we had told them when this started, that daddy was sick. Not the kind of sick that you catch from germs, but sick enough that it will take a long time for daddy to not feel so bad. We didn't use the word cancer, but I know K has heard it as it gets used often, if she asked I would tell that that is the name of daddy's sickness. They haven't asked too many questions though, but they became familiar with some of our new, regularly used vocabulary: prescription, pharmacy.... oncologist. We had to work to get them to understand daddy wasn't able to rough house with them as much as he used to, he was in too much pain. We developed a red light/ green light system so they would know when they could run to daddy without either of us yelling at them to be careful or slow down.
K is so much like me, I could see it in her eyes when she would watch daddy stretch on the floor in front of the fireplace trying to relieve his pain, she wanted to fix it too. She would constantly ask which light it was so she could give him as big a hug as she could, or try to massage his back..... it was her way of helping. For a long time I thought H was oblivious to it all, she knew he was sick, but never asked any questions. But as daddy stayed home more due to the pain, H wants to constantly be by his side, choosing to stay home with him instead of tagging along to some of K's activities. Her typical reserved manner has all but disappeared and she is full of hugs, kisses and the random "I love you".
Oddly, the hardest time for me with them is the various children's birthday parties we go to. Something about this age group, that both parents often come and stay and socialize while the children have fun. It hits me how alone I feel, how it isn't work or travel stopping him from coming, but that the cancer treatments, even early on, took enough of a toll on him that he couldn't handle the two hours of munchkin chaos. Maybe it makes me realize just how much I rely on him and just how hard it will be if..........
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