The scary "C" word

I've found with this blog that when there is big things happening, I have a hard time writing and I just avoid. I have a hard time sharing my heart openly, and maybe that is what holds me back, knowing that people will read this and I am hesitant for them (you) to read my words. Yet, I stay away because I don't want to write around the big stuff - I want to be as honest as I can about our life with this small snapshot that I give you with this blog. So I have been on a hiatus, because OH BOY let me tell you, there has been BIG stuff going on. As is my typical fashion, I have had time to deal and process and enough time has passed that I am finally ready to write again. I will have to give you a back story in order for it all to make sense. This is not going to be an easy task. Bear with me.

Back in August, right before Quinnlyn's 2nd birthday, the "C" word that nobody ever wants to hear weaselled its way into our world. Q was just getting up from a nap, and I was in the trailer with her playing and changing her diaper and being silly, and we wandered outside and saw Aimee on the phone. I knew immediately from her stance that something was up, so I made my way over to her and I saw Jon approaching from the opposite direction. She hung up the phone as we got to her, and she was crying. She looked passed Jon, not making eye contact and blurted out "Mom has cancer" and then she lost it, sobbing. I looked at my husband, and I saw on his face exactly what must have been on mine - all sorts of questions, knowing that this one tiny sentence was not enough information, and yet at the same time, it was way too much information to know how to digest. My mama bear instincts took over, and I grabbed them both and held on tight while Aimee sobbed and Jon teared up, but was still pretty bewildered. I knew in that moment that whatever was ahead, however this road would go, this would be my role. A support role, swallowing my own feelings, not allowing myself to even really feel, in order to make as much room as these sibling would need for their own feelings. Once we let go, I told Jon that we needed more information and he agreed. He called his dad and had a brief conversation with him - we don't know what kind of cancer, we don't know how bad, its in her kidney, more tests are ahead. While he was on the phone, I snapped into "go" mode. I knew that we would no longer want the party at camp (forecast was calling for rain anyways) so I started packing up all the party stuff that I had there with me, knowing that we would leave and not be coming back this week. I also started to pack up a bag for Jon and Q and I. And then I tracked down David and Alicia and filled them in and asked if they could handle one evening on their own. They were up for the challenge and eager for the responsibility, and I knew we could trust them fully. When Jon was done talking to his dad, I told him I had packed and that he needed to go talk to Andy and tell him we were leaving for the night. He told me that Tim also said that he needed to go talk to Nana, who was cooking in the kitchen at main that week. So Aimee and Jon got in the car and went over to main and I finished packing up what we would need and making a game plan with David and Alicia. When they got back they said that Nana was coming too, Aimee was going to drive with her, and the three of us would go down in our own car. Jon and I sat on the steps to the trailer for a few minutes while Q ran around, neither of us talking, not touching, just sitting together, trying to process what this means. At one point Jon looked at me and asked the hard question "what would I ever do without my mom?" and I grabbed his hand and we prayed and then I said we cannot do that. From here on out, positive thoughts only, especially since we just didn't know very much. He agreed and he pulled himself together, and since then, I have not seen him waver. He has been strong, steady, positive and full of grace. 

We got to Victoria by dinnertime, and it was clear that Calea was very shaken and very upset. Luke was there too, playing a song for everyone that he recently had found and was playing that morning (It is well, by Bethel... I actually had bought that song a few months ago, and it was already before then one of my favorites this summer) and everyone was just kind of dazed, talking but not talking. Lois talked to us at dinnertime, and I will never forget sitting at the table, her and I making direct eye contact, and having a very honest conversation. I asked Lois in that conversation what she would need from us, and told her that she needed to be honest about what she needed, and she looked at me and said "What I need the most is for you all to be brave". For me, that sentence showed her true heart - that she is the bravest one of us all. I have never worked so hard in my entire life not to cry. But as I looked around at Jon's siblings, especially his sisters, my tears went away because I saw that there needed to be someone who would take it in stride, who would be positive, and who would be strong for the rest of them - we needed to be brave, because Lois was being brave, and we needed to follow her example. 

That day though.... that day was a hard one. Possibly the hardest day of my entire life. The unknowns, the shock of hearing it, trying to wrap my tiny mind around this massive fact that just didn't make sense. I laid awake for most of that night, because I felt so unable to process this information. Lois and I have always been pretty close and gotten along well.... but ever since Quinny has been born, our relationship has went to a different level. In the past two years, she has been my sounding board, listening to my fears and constantly pointing me back to Christ. She has been the one I have gone to for parenting advice, the one I have called five billion times because I have been unsure about whatever ailment I was facing with my baby. She has filled me up when I have been lonely, struggling to find my place in this new world as a mom, reassuring me that I am doing good work. Time and again she has told me that I am a good mom, and has encouraged me and cheered for me. And more than that, I have seen a bond develop between her and Quinny that is so strong and so unique and truly beautiful. My daughter thinks her Nannie hangs the moon, and as a mom, that makes my heart so happy because Lois really is a gem. Other people complain about their mother-in laws, and I smile secretly inside, knowing that mine is the best one around. She is not just my husband's mom - she has become a parent to me too. Her and Tim have made a room for me in their home and have protected that space so that it does feel like mine, and we always have somewhere to stay. She has worked very hard to ensure that I feel like I am part of the family, and she has loved me unconditionally, even though she does not have to. All these things were running through my mind as I was laying there, trying to process. Aimee told me earlier in the day that she would compare her relationship with Auntie Barb to the one that I have with Lois, strong and amazing but at the end of the day, its not the same as the one she shares with her own daughters. I agree with Aimee and I saw what she was saying, which made it even harder for me to process everything. But yet, she is not just a family friend, she is my child's grandmother. She birthed the man that I love deeply. The bond there is deep, and life-lasting. But, she is not my mom. I have a mom who I love so much. And that means that the pain that the Lampard's were feeling was not a pain I could reach. But yet, my heart ached just as brokenly as it would have if it was my own mom. Too many feelings! Too much to take in! Jon went back to camp the next morning, needing to get back to his program and compartmentalize things. He is really good at that. Q and I stayed behind and spent the rest of the week there, and then had her party, which I wrote about a few months ago. (sorry that I didn't add this in at that point... really, I mean it when I say I couldn't process... I struggled with knowing what to write). 

So, the weeks went by and Lois wanted life to go back to normal, as normal as it could. Summer ended and fall started and she went back to work as normal. September held a lot of different scans and appointments and it seemed that every piece of news she received was fairly positive, as positive as it could be, given the circumstances. She was given a surgery date for Oct. 16th to get her kidney out. Lots of praying, so much praying! I don't know if I have ever prayed so desperately for anything in my life... and not just that she would be healed, but really that God would be glorified through all of this. I prayed for the Lampards, because they all were handling it in their own way. And mostly I prayed for Lois. That she would continue to be brave, and comforted and know that she was in His hands. And its amazing to see God's grace pouring down, and to see such desperate prayers answered.  I saw Lois march into the week of the surgery with her head up and her heart ready. She took an extra day off of school, and once that pressure of school was off, she could just prepare for what was ahead. I was in awe of her and how she handled it.

 The day of the surgery rolled around, and Jon had to go up to camp... oh my poor husband. His heart was so conflicted, torn between wanting to be with his family, and having to work. He talked with Lois about it, and she told him to go to camp and to come down when the weekend was over, since she wouldn't be up for company anyways. So off he went to camp, and Q and I drove down to Victoria to be with everyone. Luke really wanted us to go out there, so we drove out to his house for a while, which was good! The little girls ran around and played together and we just hung out. 

Auntie Aimee reading to the girls

These girls, so beautiful, such good little friends!!

We got news that the surgery went well, and that it looked like the cancer was contained to the kidney and that they got the whole thing. Doctor said it was a big tumor and it took over a lot of her kidney, but he was hopeful that it was gone. It had to be sent to pathology for tests before we could know for certain. No visitors that first day besides Tim of course, but what a relief to hear that the surgery was behind us and that it went well. I went upstairs to my room and just cried and cried. I think that was the moment that it really all hit me and that I let myself feel what I needed to feel and I have never felt relief like that before. Quinny knew that Nannie was in the hospital and later that night when I was tucking her into bed and praying with her, she asked to pray for "Nannie and Nannie's owie id-nee"... what a sweet, lovely girl. After we prayed, she was talking about Nannie and the hospital, and I knew that she really was understanding a little bit about what was happening. So I told her that our God is so good, that He was looking after Nannie, no matter what. This is the cute face she gave me... full of grins, as if she totally knew what I was saying. She is the best. 

The rest of the weekend was spent just hanging out, taking turns going to the hospital, and just being together. It was hard to see Lois in that hospital bed, so groggy from drugs, and so sore, not really able to move. But I must admit, it was also again such a relief. I couldn't hug her, but my eyes gave her the most giant hug!!! Seeing her there, in pain was hard and you could see the long road ahead... but she was there, with us, and she was a beautiful sight. Tim also made sure to talk to Aimee and Calea and get them to babysit so that I could make it up to the hospital a few times, saying that I needed to be there too, and that Lois wanted to see me also... I so appreciated that. I was ready and willing to take a backseat and let the girls be there as much as they wanted and needed, but when they watched Q and told me to go, I was grateful. The rest of the weekend around hospital visits was really low key

Lounging with her foot up on me... she is in this stage right now where something of hers always has to be touching me if we are sitting side by side. She will put her hand on my face, or her foot on my leg, or she will hold my hand and I just soak it up. She was never a very cuddly baby, preferring to do her own thing and kick her legs while laying on her back. So to see her as a toddler wanting that physical touch makes me happy and I will take it!!! She is so soft with the best skin ever... I love when she wants to hold hands or touches my face!

So now this Friday (three days from now) will mark the three week operation anniversary. And, I am overwhelmed and ecstatic to say that results came back from pathology... and they got the ENTIRE tumor and that the type of cancer that it was is very treatable! No chemo, no radiation, nothing!!! She will have to have check ups regularly now, but the cancer is GONE!! Months of prays and tears, and now we are on the other side, feeling humbled and grateful. Don't get me wrong, Lois still has quite the journey ahead of her. She is still in a lot of pain, and is still in full recovery mode, but there is no cancer. It makes me cry just writing this. Thank you, Jesus. We pray that You were and are glorified.