Dearest Ethan,

Today is your 16th birthday. 16… Who can believe it? I still remember you as a cheeky 2 year old running around. I know I have said it many times before but you were truly one of the cutest kids I have seen in my life. Your gorgeous looks only surpassed by your personality which was greater and larger than life.

You were funny, you were quick, you were spritely and, honestly, you totally had me (Along with most others) completely wrapped around your finger. Your big brown eyes could win anyone over.

An Absolute Favourite Photo Of All Of Ours…

I think one of the things I loved most about you was how smart you were. You were just so switched on and you always had an answer for everything or a joke to break up a situation.

Again, I know I have said this 1000 times but I think you and everyone should know that your laugh always remains in my mind. I can still hear the cheekiness in it. It was my most favourite laugh out of a child. Everytime you laughed, I laughed.

This morning your Dad said to me “You know, today we probably would have taken him car shopping!” I looked at him with that raised eyebrow kind of look and he then said “Yeah ok, so he probably already would have had something by now up at the farm” … To which we both chuckled. It’s true!!!

It hurts every day without you here. We miss you more than we will ever have words for.

You now have two brothers and a sister and next year we are very much hoping to give you another brother or sister. All of us talk about you often to them and make sure they know who you are and how important you are to them.

Sometimes when little ‘J’ (Your brother) looks at me or your Mum, I am amazed at how he has these uncanny glimpses of you. His laugh is infectious like yours! I am sure you have something to do with that!

I remember years ago, before my last marriage break up (But very close to the time it happened) you said to me “Why are you married to him? I don’t like him! You should marry my Dad!” … Well mate, who’d have thought you were right? Again, I think your intervention somewhere made it happen. Your Dad is perfect for me and I love him so very much. Every day I am thankful for him, and thankful to you…
You were so wise young man!!! You were only 10 at the time yet already sensed something.

Then there is your Mum and your step Dad, Angela and Rohan. These are two people who are absolutely perfect for each other. I can not wait for September to see them get married on top of the ridge named after you. Though there will be heartbreak for those who love you so very dearly that you are not in body with us, we all know you will be there, watching and blessing them.

You know mate, people have asked your Mum and myself how is it that we can be such good friends considering the circumstances (You know, in regards to her and your Dad not being together anymore) but you know, I honestly believe we are blessed because of you. Your Mum is one of my best and closest friends and your step father is one of the people who can make me laugh the most. Your Dad, Mum, step father and step mother have a close relationship and you are a big part of that.

Your Mum, Aunty Kez, Step Mum and Daddy Love You Mate… So Much xoxo

Then there are all the wonderful family, your grandparents, your cousins, Aunts and Uncles and so on who just love you more than you could ever realise. We all love you so much honey… So so so so much…

This morning I cried tears for you because I really wish you were here. Again, I know you are watching over us all, watching over little ‘J’, watching over your Mum and Dad…

Thank you once again sweetheart for your Daddy… I still promise with all of my heart to love and adore him and make sure he is doing ok. Thank you again also for your Mummy and Rohan (And little J) who have made my life that much richer… Your Mum has given me unconditional friendship… I love them dearly.

And although there will always be sadness as each day, each year goes by that we don’t have you here, we are SO thankful we had 11 wonderful years of you, your laugh, your smile, your wonder…

Best Smile In The World…

Happy 16th birthday gorgeous, beautiful, perfect boy.

Your Mum and Dad did good with you…

Love you always darling…

Your step-mother and Daddy,

Leanne & Daddy xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

P.S. This is my all time favourite song in the world… Which incidentally is the song your Dad and I dedicated to you… I have had it on repeat this morning thinking of you and thinking of all the memories…

I wanted to share it.

Foo Fighters: Resolve.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrRbJRTRGeM

Ok so, apologies about my last post. I was so sick and I barely remember writing it… Wow. What a grump! I can’t actually even remember when I did it precisely.

The first few days post chemo were hard. They told me I would more than likely feel bad for a week and that is exactly how long it was. I prayed I felt better by hubby’s birthday and sure enough, I woke up on his birthday feeling great and have since. The two most notable symptoms now are tiredness (I tire really easily) and my skin is really bad (Very itchy, red, dry etc)… My hair is still in tact but they said anytime from week 2 it will start to come out… So I assume by the end of the week I will be sporting a shaved head… I am not thrilled about it but certainly not as bothered as I once was. I think because now all I want to do is just get through the next 5.

On the plus side, one thing I am noticing is that the last few days I have not been sweating the small stuff. For those who know me well, know I sweat EVERYTHING. I am a stresser by nature. However, I have been so cruisy. My family are loving it. I think because in the grand scheme of things I realise that these things don’t matter. Yesterday, for example, a vase that I have which means a lot to me (Kelly gave me red roses in it when we were in Vegas) got smashed. Ordinarily I would be very distressed about such a thing. I didn’t worry about it. It is just a thing. I have a photo and these things happen.

Another thing was my darling husband requested that we stay in last night (Friday) instead of going out to dinner as we usually do on the weekend the kids are away. He has had a HUGE week at work plus with the chemo I have been sleeping a lot. Usually I am desperate to get out and about (Especially as I have been home all week) but I was more than happy to stay at home  snuggled with him on the couch. He kept hugging me saying “I love being with you” and we watched MTV music channels, laughed and talked about music and memories. It was a fantastic night…

Our Night In

On this note I want to say that Thursday WAS my husband’s birthday With everything happening with our little man and then me, Kelly had requested that we forget his birthday this year and, in his words, “Celebrate in 17 weeks”. I was feeling down as I didn’t think I would, at that time, be well enough to do anything (And I always make a big deal out of his birthday because, well, I love him to pieces and he is the least demanding person I have ever met). I didn’t get him as great a gift as I usually would (Due to time and illness) and given how I felt, I thought I would have to give in.

Wednesday I woke up and felt moderately better. So I sat myself down on a wheelie chair and made him the cake of all cakes. Then on Thursday I woke up feeling AMAZING so I was able to make him buttermilk pancakes for breakfast, then take him lunch into work. Me being me of course took in a stack of ‘Happy Birthday’ helium balloons and the office invited me in to surprise him. His face was priceless.
Also at work he had to wear the work ‘birthday hat’ and work decorated his desk (I had e-mailed one of his colleagues the day before to alert her it was his day ). So cute!

 Oh Please! You Knew I Would! You Look So Cute!!! I Think You Should Wear The Hat All The Time… (Oh And That’s The Cake I Made Him )

When the kids got home from school we blew up balloons and put up a happy birthday sign then my gorgeous 8 year old girl cooked dinner for us all which was SO good! I actually have competition in the house! She did an amazing job!
The kids also decorated two sponge cakes for him and sang him happy birthday.
The night was topped off with ‘special cuddles’ and watching our favourite TV shows together.
Before Kelly switched out the light at bed time he turned to me, stroked my face and said “I love you snooks, thank you for giving me one of the best birthdays”. My response was “Well, aside from the gift” and he said to me “Babe, I have you and the kids. That’s all I want”

And therein lies ‘perspective’. He’s right. We have each other.

Oh and for those who are wondering what the gift was? Well, let’s just say that the largest part of it was something I think he really needed…

Alcohol!

I have my head up a little this morning. So I thought I would write a little.

I don’t think you could ever comprehend how Chemotherapy feels. I don’t think, until you do it, you will ever feel how hard it is. This is just the beginning.

You may not agree with it, you may not approve that it is needed, you may think that chemo is a no guarantee way to make the Drs feel better. Let me tell you something, I can’t imagine anyone in the world wishing to do this on someone just to cover their arses.

I may sound stern, or tough or grumpy. Maybe a little?

I have heard a lot of talk recently and seen a lot of articles on whether or not chemo is necessary. Trust me, if I had utter faith, I would not do this. I do think of my two kids and any kind of thing that may give me some hope of having a longer and healthy life, I am going to do.

On the day, I was put in a room with 4 spots. As each hour passed, I got a new ‘roomie’… 4 old men. Yep. Not one woman in the room with me. 4 old men. I suppose on the plus side they were all pretty quiet and just minded their own business. I could tell they felt sorry for me. Why? They are going through it too. They would smile, wink and say “You’ll be right love!” … I cried.

It was a long day. 10 minutes to get the drip in, 15 minutes to inject anti-nausea medication, 30 minutes to let it get into the system, 5 hours 45 minutes to do chemo round one, 10 minutes to flush system again, 45 minutes to put in chemo round 2. It was a long day.

I found comfort in taking in my laptop and watching movies all day. Funny, I usually like talkative company but I just wanted to zone away into my movies. Kelly was amazing. He brought in his laptop too and worked and read and just sat quietly touching my leg and so on. He and the nurses hugged me as I cried. How is it that these people years beyond me were being so strong? And yet, I was crying.

Still, the process itself, though long, was not that awful. I felt tired immediately. I came home and slept for what felt for days. The next day when I woke I felt great. I thought to myself “If this is it then this will be a piece of cake”… I was SO wrong.

A friend of ours warned us Day 3 would be the worst. It was. It really was. When I woke on Friday (Chemo injected Wednesday) I felt sore. My whole body felt sore. As the day went on it became almost unbearable. I felt sick and everytime I tried to eat I had no taste in my food. I kept asking Kelly “Is this off?” … Alas, everything tasted normal to him.

I started to feel more sickly and gross. Yesterday I woke up and it was the worst. Day three for sure. Everytime I took a step it felt like my bones were shattering. Everytime I smelt food I wanted to be sick. Everytime I moved I felt pain like you would never understand.

I sobbed and sobbed until I fell asleep on Kelly’s lap. To make it worse, he had to attend a work launch last night. The thought of him leaving me left me terrified. My comfort zone.

Thankfully Stevie-Rae, who is one of my most favourite people in the world, came over to look after me and the kids. She got my drinks, heated my heat packs, got me any food I needed… You name it, she was on call. She made me laugh too which was no easy thing. Especially singing songs about Oompa Lumpas.

All I can do is ride this wave.

1 down, 5 to go. June 27th is my estimated finishing date. My hair hasn’t gone yet, so that will be the next big milestone. And hopefully on the next one I can seek more effective pain relief from my Oncologist.

I know it could be worse, I also know it could be better.

I love my kids and my husband more than anything in the world, and they are what keep me going. I will endure this to give me the best chance possible to have a long life with them.

I can not stress enough to the people who have been there for Kelly and I, it will NOT be forgotten and I will always make sure I am there for you.

I am really learning who is and isn’t worth my time.

If you ever know someone who is going through this, my best advice is to put a hand on the shoulder and say “I am here”… It is that easy. Make your actual voice heard. I don’t believe in karma, I believe in do to others how you would like to have done to you.

To anyone else who is going through this or has been through this, I have a massive respect for you. It is shit and hard and this is only the beginning. So much love to all of you. So so so much love.

xoxoxoxo

What is your definition of ‘brave’ or ‘inspirational’? These are words I have heard a lot lately and it got me to thinking about what or, better yet, WHO fits these terms the most?

Let’s take celebrities… Elton John, I am told, each year hosts a fundraiser each awards season for mutual celeb friends. Generally he raises a couple of hundred thousand dollars. That’s amazing. Some may say “inspirational”… However, I often wonder if people know that it costs him an average of 1.2 million dollars to put the event on. My thought? Why not outwardly donate that 1.2 million instead of hosting it in the first place? Now THAT, would be inspirational.

Truth be told, and as ridiculous as this may sound, I always thought to be ‘brave’ you needed to be a superhero! Think about it? When you are a kid you are surrounded by icons like Superman, Batman, He-Man (Ok, so much not so much today but when I was a kid). I remember watching Christopher Reeve standing, puff chested in his spandex and thinking “Wow, he is brave!” Of course! He fights ‘baddies’ …

Is It A Bird? Is It A Plane?… No! It Is Someone Really Really Really BRAVE!

Then there is the whole ‘Inspirational’ thing. Now admittedly, I enjoy sport. I enjoy watching and being a part of the atmosphere. In my teens, I loved playing. I don’t mean to insult sporting ‘people’ but to hear them being called ‘inspirational’, I had to wonder why? Why are they inspirational?

Where am I going with this? Lately I have had a number of people tell me they think I am brave and inspirational. I have to be honest, that didn’t sit right with me. Don’t get me wrong, it didn’t insult me, rather, embarrassed me. I thought “Honestly? I am neither of the above!”
I had to ask one or two of the closer people to me why they said that? The response was much the same. It came down to how I was dealing with things, doing that newspaper interview and getting the word out to other young women to be mindful etc.

I still didn’t feel it was enough to make me ‘brave’ or ‘inspirational’.

I mean, if I was to apply my childhood logic of what was ‘brave’ then I DEFINATELY wouldn’t be classed that way! I don’t think I have ever worn my knickers on the outside! (Or*HAVE* I? ) And BELIEVE me, I do NOT look good in spandex!!! (Unless it was tight enough to push all my stomach and butt fat up to my boobs and make them the size that even Wonder Woman would be jealous! )

 ‘Well HELLLLLOOOOOOOOOO Ladies!’ That Is One Nice Arse! I Mean Rack, I mean… WHATEVER!

If you have stopped staring at my dream breasts, you will now bring back your attention to here

Brave and inspirational. Those, in reality, are BIG words with BIG meaning and yes, I feel, BIG responsibility. Do I think I am brave? Do I think I am inspirational? Ummmm… I don’t know… I guess not?

See the thing is I think I am like anybody else, except for the fact I have an illness that needs treating. I don’t think that makes me brave. I wish you could all see me in those moments I am curled into a ball at home, crying my eyes out and sucking my thumb like a baby! (Ok, this may be an over-dramatisation). Honestly though, I have moments where all I want to do is sob. Today, I am going to admit, was one of those days. I held it, held it, held it and then went to see my psych and burst into tears. I waffled through a list of what was upsetting me and why. This is largely due to me starting chemo on Wednesday. There is no more putting it off, there is no more denying it, it is starting. I *HAVE* to do this.

After talking with her for a while it came to light that what upsets me the most is not being able to do all of my own things. Knowing I have to ask for help, knowing I can’t do my life, on my own, my way. I have lived out of home since I was 18 and have never looked back and, as a result, am very independent. My parents raised me right. I like not only taking care of me, but taking care of my family and anyone else I can. I like my own space, my own time and, well, being a control freak to a degree and sorting things out on my own.

The whole idea that for the next 20 weeks my whole world will change, both physically and otherwise, is really unsettling for me. It makes me sad.

Then once I AM sad, I think that is NOT brave. It is NOT inspirational. It makes me weak because then I cry. Crying is weak no?

The odd thing is, if I see others cry I don’t think it is weak, I think it is HUMAN!

After a while of talking and going through things she said to me “Leanne, you are coping brilliantly” and instantly I said “I know” … Without thought or reservation. Then shocked myself when I realised what I said.

The truth is, I am feeling sad. I am also feeling brave… SOME DAYS and others not. The link is that brave doesn’t necessarily mean ‘heroic’ (Like superman). It is ok to be brave and to feel brave and for others to say that.

Truthfully, I am in a situation that I can’t control and have no choice but to deal with it the way it needs dealing with. If I want to cry, I can cry. I need to have more faith in people that they are OK with me crying. And that them seeing me cry doesn’t mean they will think I am any less ‘brave’ or ‘inspirational’.

Now if I cried over not having Wonder Woman boobs or Ivanka Trump’s bank account then maybe I would seem, well a tad on the pathetic side.
Then again, aren’t they the devastations of the day to day?
I know I would console a friend who felt that way

 Let’s Finish On A High Note…

Well after a long hiatus, I am back.

My little man went in for his op and did STUNNINGLY well that they let him home after 10 days instead of the 1-2 months they said. He has to go for another tiny op on the 23rd to check out the progress but that should only be day surgery.

It’s been tiring to say the very least. I was undergoing that whole IVF during it. Thankfully the clinic was a few streets over from the hospital he was at but running back and forth took its toll some days. There were many a night I would fall asleep on the bed with him and Kelly or a nurse would have to co-erce me into going back to our room at the hospital to sleep. Some nights I came home to my own bed. I swear, I had turned into a zombie.

Kelly was much the same. Poor love. He was going from home, to work, to the hospital, to home (That’s when he wasn’t at the hospital with us)… We were totally exhausted.

He missed his first couple of my appointments with me because we just couldn’t manage the time. So I had him on conference call with my Oncologist and Fertility Drs. It still amazes me everyday how wonderful this man is. He is so supportive and hands on and to have someone back me up and have support like I never felt before was incredible.

I decided to start seeing a psych (With high recommendations from others) who is fantastic. She actually said to me “Leanne, you are coping AMAZINGLY considering everything and anyone who tells you otherwise is insane!” … So we agreed I would keep going just to sit and talk to somebody neutral about everything as a form of release. It helps. I get so frustrated sometimes so it is nice to vent to someone without hurting someone’s feelings (Which would inevitably happen with anyone else)

Now, as for the fertility stuff. WHAT A PALAVA!!! My first lot of blood tests were poor so we almost canned it on the spot. They were so bad the whole thing looked pointless. My Dr then called me and said “Look, I am going to double the medication dosage but I am not optimistic” … Honestly, at that point, neither were we. We were so drained and tired from everything with little man that this side of things was so insigificant. How the hell can I make healthy eggs if we are both SO stressed?!

But then, a miracle. Those little, tiny and lifeless follicles just exploded. Before I knew it I had 4 decent ones sitting there. 2 days later, they called me back in for another scan and blood test. 4 turned into 6. 2 days later, 6 into 8 then when it came time for them to take them out I had 9 healthy big ones and 4 small ones which couldn’t be used.

At the retrieval they told me when I woke up I would have a number on my hand of how many healthy ones they got out. Early on, they didn’t anticipate more than 4 and this was BEFORE my poor results. I awoke to the number 9.

The next day at my gorgeous friend’s wedding Kelly and I waited and waited for what felt like an eternity for the clinic to call at 2:30pm to tell us if we had any success fertilising them.

Then the call came. So, surrounded by many of our wonderful friends we were informed 8 of the 9 eggs fertilised. That was MIND BLOWING to us both. The whole science of it all is insane. Amazing but insane. We got a MASSIVE group hug from all our friends and almost trampled by the newlyweds.

Two bits of good news in such a short time between our boy and the eggs.

Now for the BIG one. Chemo starts in a week tomorrow. I am scared and I can’t say why. I just want it to work and our life to be happy and healthy for many many many years to come. As I said to my psych “I don’t wish for frolicking or extreme happiness, I just want to be ok” …

So please please PLEASE let this 6 courses of chemo go quickly and for me to be ok and move forward with my life. Then maybe next year Kelly and I can get pregnant on one of those 8 frozen embryos and live happily ever after with our family of  5.

Thank you once again to everyone who has been doing meal deliveries and again, to Rachael for organising it. It has been a god send and amazing! (Again, if you want to help out find her on my friends list on Facebook and send her a message). The food has been amazing and delicious and really helpful.

Also to those who sent gifts and visited the hospital. It was fantastic.

Lastly, I apologise for not being there for you, my friends lately. I am trying so hard to do everything. I will make it up to all of you.

Much love…

Leanne xoxoxox

P.S. I hope to make my blog less boring from now… Just the events of our lives right now