2005 was a big year for me. I found out I was pregnant on May 24. Then found out I had cancer on June 14. It was the most frightening year of my life, the most surreal, in many ways – it was just plain the worst. But just into the new year, 2006, Jake was born. It was so strange and wonderful that such health and pure, screaming, wiggly, adorable proof of Life could have been happening inside of me during such a troublesome year.
Shortly after he was born, a couple of spots were found on my lung that they have since more than ruled out as nothing to worry over. But at the time, I plummeted in fear. This is an excerpt from my manuscript describing my emotions at the time, just after we were relieved by the news that the spots were not, after all, very suspicious for cancer.
I would like to think my reaction that Friday [when I was told of the abnormality] was dramatically enhanced by postpartum hormones. And I will continue to believe that until proven otherwise. Cancer diagnoses and babies just should not be mixed. In any way. Ever.
But then, Jake gave me so much to smile about. He was such a gift. Such perfect proof that Life perseveres. I would not have chosen to make his entrance to the world so wrought with trauma. But then I would have missed the awesome joy. We were at the beginning of a new year. I love a new year. I know it’s just days on a calendar, but I get such hope at the beginning of each one. As though maybe this will be the best one yet.
Thank goodness no one told me at the beginning of 2005 what that year held for us. I would never have believed the heartache and painful lessons could add up to all this beauty. And I would not have risked it. But then how much I would have missed.
I’m thankful God does not tell us everything. I’m thankful for the gifts that outweigh the trouble. I am so deeply thankful for Jake.