They noticed immediately. At the train station one of the twins started weeping because my hair looked 'like an old person's '. The other pointed out the bald patch just by my parting and my eldest, trying to be diplomatic said that she thought it was 'different'. They are so wonderful, so very brave and true. I told them last night. I gave them supper, and then whilst we were sitting in front of the television, they asked me to put on the Nintendo. It was whilst I was bending down that twin number 1 said, you really are going bald Mummy, and I knew. I knew then that if we continued on, I was going to lie to them and I didn't want to do that. Yes, I had fudged it at the train station but I didn't want them feeling uncomfortable about their anger and their grief in the middle of rush hour in a draughty, busy rail station in the centre of London.
So I sat them down and told them. I told them I had cancer, that breast cancer in general and my cancer in particular is curable. I told them that there was no guarantee I could give them that I would live but the current situation was that the doctor was going to cure me and if that changed, I would tell them. I told them that I was going to lose my hair, be very tired, and feel sick and they could do things to help. I told them that there was no reason for this cancer, that it wasn't because of diet, smoking or anything else, just luck bad or otherwise. I told them that it was absolutely nothing to do with them that I had cancer. I told them that if I wasn't around, then they would always be looked after and loved by their father and step-mother as well as my family. I told them that it was an incredibly scary idea to come to terms with and that we must share all our fears, that it wasn't to be hidden, unless they wanted it to be and they could tell anyone they liked.
They wept, and as they did, I urged them to express their fears. One said that she would be embarrassed to see me bald, one that Christmas would never be the same, that I would die, that I would look odd and wierd one breasted, that all their friends would notice... And one by one, we went through each fear, we pegged each frightening idea out on the floor in front of us, pinned it down and examined it in detail. We agreed that losing hair was scary, that having a bald mother would be wierd, we played with the hats and decided to call the wig, 'Wiggy'. They agreed that the thought of losing a mother was scary but that being lied to was worse.
We laughed, we cried, and we held each other.
Tonight, before bed, my children said to me, 'Cancer isn't such a scary word now'.
I am a very lucky mother....
Minerva
19 comments:
That is such a personal entry. I don't know if I would have been able to know and watch my mother going through so much, to know there was a chance that I would never see her again. Your children really are strong. You get my prayers - you and your sweet ones.
(and I found my way here through Michele)
You did good!!
You say you're lucky. Your children are the way they are because of you. They are at least as lucky.
I knew you would figure out just how to do it, Minerva. And I also knew that they would allay your fears for them. How smart of you to get their fears out in the open and discuss them. Fear of the unknown is the worst of all - and now they know what they (and you) are dealing with, they can support you fully. I am sure they will be of much comfort to you in the months to come.
you are awesome...your grrls are awesome...
awesome for being honest...awesome for talking about fears...awesome that cancer isnt such a scary word any more... :)
wishing you and your family -
peace...
Hi again Dear Minerva,
What a wonderful Mother you must be to have raised such honest and caring daughters. One of the many joys children provide is their honesty. The way in which you explained the cancer to them was honest and encouraging.
I am sending a big cyber hug to you and those 3 beautiful daughters of yours.
I just want the day to come when I click on your blog and see the magic words "the cancer has gone". I wish I could offer you more words of support, but do know that you are in my thoughts and my prayers.
Big hugs to you and those darling girls.
sunburnt
Well done, Minerva and Daughters!
The hardest thing has now been done, and you have your girls behind you every step of the way.
Pegging out fears was an excellent idea - deconstructing the demon!
cq
Well done. It must have been like standing on the edge of the highest cliff and deciding to make that leap once you knew you were not going to fudge the issue and were going to tell them. Unsurprisingly, you landed OK and you did the best thing ever to be honest to them.
Far better that they feel important enough for you to share this with them. And then to deal with some of those 'details' and the fears at this stage is awesome.
((((Hugs to you all))))
God bless you and your lovely daughters Minerva. A big brave moment...your girls are truly lucky to have a mum like you. And I think they know that.
You handled that wonderfully, Minerva. Well done on telling your children properly. Your girls did really well in their reaction.
I'm proud of you, Minerva.
And your children are alos very lucky to have a mother like you.
I needed to hear this message today as my mother (she's 83) was just diagnosed with an adenocarcinoma. She is still going through tests to determine the extent, but you know how that darn "c" word can sneak up on you, even if you yourself have experienced it. Thanks for not only sharing your story, but inspiring me today as well.
That was very brave Minerva.
My parents didn't tell me that my mom has breast cancer until it had already been removed. Not that they lied to me, the just didn't tell me. And no one told my little brother until the cancer was in remission.
It will be good to have the support of your family I think.
You did exactly the right thing, which of course you know. I imagine the decision to discuss with kids is an extremely difficult one (how to approach?), but can you just imagine the stress of keeping it from them? Having to pretend everything is precisely as before?
No additional stress needed, please!!
Your girls are extremely lucky to have such a wonderful mommy. :)
I warned you that kids are more perceptive than you ever expect them to be, and stronger too. Of course any of your offspring would be formidable foes had they only possessed a third of your strength. I can't imagine all you pitted against this wretched illness.
My only regret is that the cancer itself doesn't keep a blog. Today's entry would have been a gem.
"Dear blog,
I have been bravely slugging along against my greatest foe for a little while now and am a little worn from the fight, but today I felt my strongest pang of doubt. My foe has reinforced her ranks with some children that are stronger than anyone expected. I am more terrified than ever that she will destroy me and her children will dance on my grave. AAhhh!"
Minerva~
You and your precious children remain in my prayers. You are a lucky mother, and they are lucky to have you.
(((HUGS)))
3T
Well done Minerva - bet you feel better already! Have a good week - speak soon LOL C xx
Minerva, I am weeping as I read this post. It's good. It's very good.
I have tears in my eyes. Cancer has always been a part of my life, I lost my dad when I was 6 to lung cancer. This month is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and I have been doing whatever I can to help. Finding your site is a little strange, but I am glad that I did. I will be back often.
tears falling... I simply can't find the words.
What a perfect way to share this with your children. You did a great job! As time marches on, both you and they will be able to deal with so much that otherwise would have been stumbling blocks.
I too am sitting here in tears after reading your post.......
Hugzzzz to you and your children.
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