Are You There God? It's Me, Ashley.

Mood:  scared, exhausted


When we got the news that Jeff's cancer had returned and that he would need three months of chemotherapy, I made a promise to myself that I was going to blog my way through the experience. And so, I write tonight. Bear with me. I am running on 5 hours of sleep and a day from hell. As I started this post I got angry at myself for not writing more of this journey. But, it occurred to me that we have only gotten through one full 5 day cycle of chemo. He has about 8 more to go. It's been just over a week....

That week has felt like a million years. I'm positive that I have aged at least 20 years.

Jeff has tolerated the chemo fairly well, and at the end of his third day we were actually pretty hopeful that he'd get through this without much discomfort and pain. The end of his third day was two days before my last post. Perhaps we got too excited too quick, or perhaps we were just incredibly naive about what this process really is.

The thing is, you really don't know much about chemo and cancer and IVs and pills until you are forced to know. I've always valued knowledge and learning and books but I find, as I sit here too scared to sleep, crying for my husband, for Malcolm, for myself and the loss of some imaginary sense of innocence, that there really is truth to the whole "ignorance is bliss" thing.

I know now, that cancer and chemo seem to be one step forward and three miles back.

I spent all of last night and this morning trapped in my head and hating myself. I got my period for the first time in a year and I hated that it's more confirmation that I can't have a child and that I was even thinking about given our current situation. I hated how fat I have gotten and that I haven't done a damn thing about it. I hated that I have no "best" friends in Iowa and that I'm too scared to get close enough to people to make any. I hated that sometimes I feel like I have no best friend at all. I hated that my sister is too far away and I haven't spoken to my brother in a year and that my mom could do nothing more than listen to me sob over the phone. I hated that Malcolm saw me cry and that he kissed my stomach to make me feel better and all I could do was cry more.

I hated so, so much today.

Jeff was running a fever all day. I hated watching him try to fight it. I hated that he seemed to be unable to do so.

He has been admitted to the hospital with the fever and a low white blood cell count. And I sit on the couch, alone, crying. And scared. The one thing I did know going into this battle is that it is very rarely cancer that takes a patient. It is an illness or infection that they just can't fight. And I am trying so, so hard to KNOW that Jeff is not going to go due to an illness...but I also told myself he wouldn't get this bad. I told myself the cancer was gone after his surgery in April. I seem adept at lying to myself.

And while I have no idea what will happen later tonight or tomorrow morning or the next day, I do know that I don't hate the fact that Jeff is in the hospital. I don't hate that I can't breath because my throat is so tight from choking on tears. I don't hate that Malcolm left the hospital telling me how much he was going to miss Daddy tonight. I don't hate any of that because I am just so aware of what I do have. I am alive. I have Malcolm to talk to, even if it's sad and scary sometimes. And I have a husband I love that I get to see tomorrow morning. And I have a Pomeranian cuddled on my lap, licking away the salty tears.

I have a great iTunes playlist going. I have a pink glittery cup holding my water. And I have people reading this. This might not get read by many people, I don't know. But if it does, I hope it gives you some hope. Or a bit of happiness. Life is scary. As much as we learn and plan and love and think, so much is out of our control. Sometimes it's important to remember that. And to stop fighting for control for a moment and to just be. And to allow what will happen to happen.

And if God is reading this,

Help.

Sincerely,

Ashley

I (still) Do

Mood:  blessed


Jeff - 

One year ago I walked down the aisle to your smiling face.  I was so sure I would cry.  As I stood listening to our prelude music and my father gave me my "something old" 

(the "it's a girl pin" they received and my hospital bracelet from the day I was born)

I sobbed.  I honestly was unsure whether I would even be able to use a steady voice.  As I heard "Here Comes My Girl" finish I felt so....right and at peace that I glanced at my dad, saw him smile, and couldn't wait to see your face.  I saw you smile, saw Malcolm look at me....and I knew in that instant that my life was forever changed for the better.  

I knew on our second date that you were the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.  Your passion, humor, responsibility, and smile are just a few of the things that cemented this realization.  

So here is a brief history of us in photos:

third date...and first picture of us EVER

seconds after getting engaged.

our engagement photography session

mr. and mrs.

annnnnnnnnnnnd.....

me...just a few seconds ago

One year ago today I felt like a princess.  And I married you, my prince.  We sipped champagne from my dream Swarovski crystal flutes and I danced with you in a beautiful dress as you smiled.  Tonight, I'm wearing yoga pants.  I have on a t-shirt, no makeup, and glasses.  Yet, as we sipped champagne and ate a piece of our wedding cake...I feel the exact same way that I did one year ago today.  Like a princess, with you as my prince.

I still have butterflies in my stomach when I think of you.  My face still lights up when somebody says your name or you enter a room.  So, Jeff, I STILL do.  I still promise every single thing that I vowed to keep close to my heart at our wedding...and tonight I promise even more.

We've talked about the common wisdom that the first year of marriage is the hardest.  We haven't had the easiest of times every single day, but I find it hard to believe that marriage only gets easier.  Because regardless of the fight, the words, the hurt feelings...it's always temporary.  And I cannot imagine a life that you are not a part of.  

Jeff, I STILL do.  I still cannot believe how lucky I am to fall asleep next to you every single night and wake up to you every morning.  I thank God each day that you are the one who loves watching stupid tv shows and youtube videos with me.  I am thrilled that it's your hand that holds me when I cry, and your voice that soothes me.  

I know that life won't always be easy.  I know that marriage requires a life of hard and constant work, and sometimes I slack off.  But I also know that there is something magical about us, and that you make me want to be a woman that I only dreamed of being before meeting you.  Thank you for loving me.  Thank you for inspiring me.  Thank you for choosing me.  Thank you for making me feel like a princess, even when I'm wearing yoga pants.  I love you.