August 12. It's coming up fast.
A recap of the plan: Left mastectomy, right tissue expander removal, bilateral DIEP flap reconstruction. BreastRestoration.org has some lovely diagrams, if you care to learn more.
It's not exciting.
It's not "Yay, new boobs!"
It's 3-4 nights in the hospital, with one-on-one nursing care every hour to make sure everything is healing as it should.
It's 3 months of putting life on hold, and then gradually working toward "normal" again, whatever that looks like after completely rearranging your body surgically.
It's not lifting my kids - not lifting anything heavier than a gallon of milk. They love to take turns being held during worship on Sunday mornings. Will Jay be "too old" to want to praise Jesus with me, when I am finally strong enough to lift him again?
It's not putting my kids to bed at night, because I can't lay by them in their beds like we do every single night.
It's most likely missing out on walking Jay to his classroom on his first day of school.
It's opting for more scars, bigger scars, in an attempt to look and feel whole again. Will I feel like me, or like some Franken-barbie?
It's juggling pain meds and stomach problems.
It's dodging my boys' hugs and snuggles because they're BOYS and gentle just doesn't come naturally to them. At least now, I can gently and discretely redirect their hugs to my left side, my strong side as Jay has called it. I won't have a strong side anymore.
It's trading in sleeping next to my husband for a recliner for a while.
It's sacrificing my autonomy in many areas: personal care, running my household, raising my children, participating in MOPs, driving.
Yeah, it's "optional" and I could just continue on like I am now - there's no real reason why the status quo can't continue, at least for a while longer. Except that an expander is a temporary thing, and I don't want to risk having to go through this again because of the other side.
It's hard to recover from a surgery, feel normal and strong again, and opt to do it all over again, with an even more intense recovery this time.
I'm scared out of my mind. I'm sad at what I have to give up and miss out on. I'm a little mad, because I don't want to have to go through this.
But being brave is being scared and still moving forward with what you know you need to do.
So, brave it is. Let's do this.
