Void

On the night before surgery I think I'm supposed to feel something.  In all reality I feel somewhat of a void, nothing.  I imagine people would think I would feel scared or maybe even "more spiritual" because in hard times like this one can become more aware of God or your faith.

I don't know how to feel to be honest other than this is all very surreal.

One thing I do feel is gratitude.  I feel grateful for:  My dear friend Denise taking our girls and "entertaining" them throughout doctor appointments and during the surgery tomorrow.  The endless cards, letters, emails, posts, gifts, and comments.  The support of my community at church, at work and other women who have shared their stories with me.  The Parachutes volunteers and co-workers who are putting in extra time so Joel does not have to work.  My mother, who traveled 4,000 miles and spent many, many airline miles to get here on such short notice as well as buying the nicest shawl ever along with the most expensive tank top on earth (secret pockets no extra charge).  My sister who has literally read the entire "Dr. Susan Love's Breast Book," who searches online ABOUT EVERYTHING, sent me special clothes, and really, really wants to buy a wig (can you guess what sister that is?).  My other sister who managed to get me a prayer picture she drew halfway across the world and who is agonizing over the fact she isn't closer.  My brother who encourages me with words like "boobs are over rated anyway."  My dad, who is not a phone talker,  has called me more than once!  My children, who like me, don't always know how to put into words what they are thinking or feeling but who hug me more, want to cuddle in bed (every night), cry when they tell a friend, wear my special new clothes around the house, or say nothing at all.

And lastly, my husband, who has read, watched videos, seen many portfolios of reconstruction (not very erotic), taken endless notes when the doctors are spewing information that I can easily remember at the appointment but once I walk out the door it's all jumbled.  He has held me when I cry and makes silly jokes to keep the laughter alive.

Thank you for praying, thank you for loving, thank you for giving.

In twelve hours from now at 11:30am "Thing 1" will no longer be.

Stacey