Gametes In Love

I said yesterday that I’m not anxious about next week and G going into kindergarten. I lied.

I’ve been having nightmares.

About the boys dying. In one I was lead to a field of headstones/full-body death masks. One of the death masks was of S2. I woke up frightened.

G turns 6 next week. He starts kindy too. Jennifer was diagnosed on her sixth birthday. Her eye turned a few days prior and their lives were never the same since.

I’m not saying this is logical. It’s not.

I’m not predicting it will happen. Oh please, oh please, I hope it doesn’t.

But that’s where my mind has been going this week. If I had a full body MRI machine at my disposal (and can read the results), I’d be scanning the kids weekly. I’m so afraid! So afraid to have cancer come into our lives. Specifically their lives.

I give them hugs at night so grateful that I can.

I went to sleep last night asking for 60 more years with them. Then I realized in 60 years I’ll be in my mid-90s. So maybe that’s not realistic. So then I asked for 50 more years. 50 sounded reasonable. And then it sounded SO short. Yes, there are week-ends where Monday can’t come fast enough, but 50 years right now felt like just a blink of an eye.

Crap! I hate the word “cancer” now. My dad’s mom died because of breast cancer. My mom’s dad died because of melanoma. My mom has had it. Thankfully she’s cancer free. My mom’s mom has it now. She will not be cured. But never have I hated and feared cancer as much as since Jennifer’s diagnosis. Maybe it’s because prior to that cancer was treatable. Survivable even. And kids were rare to get it, right? Not that there are some cancers where there is nothing to be done. Not that 46 kids get diagnosed each day. Not that by the time the boys graduate high school each will (on average) have 4 school-mates that will be diagnosed with cancer. I just so don’t want either G or S2 to be one of those kids. Please, oh, please, oh, please! Or any more of my close circle of friends. I can’t take any more.

A is anxious about K-bean being teased at school. Other friends lament their babies growing up and not being home with them during the day. I’m not saying they don’t have my fears. I’m sure they do. But I want their fears to be at my surface. I want to trade.

I guess there’s nothing to do now but fake it through next week.

S2 has a few words that are just too cute for me to set right.

Forts are “forks”

Maps are “naps”

I don’t want to outgrow this! He’s already talking so much, and processing so much… I just need a little boy still left in him for a little while longer