Today I hung out with Ronan most of the day. We played in bed, walked the halls, and around noon Mimi, Papa, and Woody came to visit.
I was trying to sneak out of the hospital to go home, shower, and change clothes, but Ronan was not having any of it. He was really upset when he realized I was going to leave him. I finally slipped out around 2:00 and met Woody at home, where we had lunch and tried to have a conversation about something other than the fact that our son has cancer.
How do you even have a normal conversation anymore?
Everything seems so pointless and stupid.
While we were home sitting on the couch, I turned on the TV in the background to try to focus on something else. I’ve never been huge into television, but one of my guilty pleasures has been The Real Housewives of New York City. It just happened to be on, and I sat and watched it for about ten minutes.
I immediately felt sick to my stomach.
I was listening to a bunch of ungrateful, ridiculous women — who don’t have a care in the world — complain and fight about everything and anything they could possibly think of. How in the world did I ever sit and watch this show before all of this?
I guess it was because I lived in my little bubble where my life was perfect and I didn’t have a care in the world. I didn’t know any better.
And maybe that’s how life should be, because it was a very nice life.
But it is not my life anymore.
And it never will be again.
Woody picked up the twins from school, and I stayed home and passed out. Hard. I shut all the shutters, closed the drapes, and slept for a solid two hours. I woke up and immediately felt guilty for not spending that time with Liam and Quinn.
I did normal mom things with them — talked about school, went over homework, unpacked their lunches. I had them shower and change clothes, then took them to the hospital to see Ronan. They stayed and played for a good hour, which is always good for everyone.
I had a lovely visit with a woman named Joanie, whom I’ve spoken to several times on the phone since Ronan was diagnosed with neuroblastoma. Her son was diagnosed with the same thing when he was Ronan’s age and is now off at the University of Arizona living a happy, healthy life.
She was like a breath of fresh air.
I feel like I’ve known her my entire life. The first time I spoke to her was after Ronan’s surgery when we were in the PICU. That wasn’t even a week ago, but it feels like a year. I remember how scared I was then, still trying to grasp what was happening to our family.
Tonight, after meeting her in person, I instantly felt safe and secure. I know she is another one of Ronan’s angels, and he is going to make it through this.
Two of my other girlfriends stopped by as well — Jen and Olivia — whom I’ve known since eighth grade. We were always friends growing up, but nothing like the friendship I’ve developed with them over the last year.
No matter what, those two will always have my back. They will fight for me and my family until the day they die — and I would do the exact same for them. They are both such strong, smart women. I am so lucky to have them in my life.
They say laughter is the best medicine, and I know that whenever those two are around, there is never a shortage of it. I needed to laugh tonight.
Because tomorrow, my three-year-old starts chemo.
And that is not going to be fun.
Another thing that makes me so angry about all of this is that I don’t get to be a mom to my twins the way I want to for a while.
That feels so unfair.
I was born to be a mom. I take so much pride in my kids. My seven-year-olds are proof of how wonderful children can turn out with the right parenting. And now that role feels like it’s being taken away from me, and I have no say in it at all.
That is cruel.
It breaks my heart.
I find comfort in knowing I don’t have to worry about them as much because the groundwork has been laid. They are respectful, good boys. And I know they are in the best care in the world with my in-laws and Woody taking care of them.
But it still makes me sad.
Because that is my job.
I am learning the hard way that when it comes down to it, you really have no control over your life.
So you’d better make the best of it while you can.
You never know if — or when — you’ll be hit with something awful like this.
xoxo

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