111 days is taking its toll. Knowing that we have are only 8% of the way through or we have 92% of our journey still to go hurts, it hurts so fucking much.
Reading about the children who’ve died – not from cancer but from the side effects of treatment terrifies me. Reading about the relapses scares the crap out of me, hearing about the kids that haven’t made it to remission panics me. And we are having to live with this worry EVERY FUCKING
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DAY.
And for 111 days i’ve not mentioned these thoughts, i’ve not dared to mention it because I couldn’t, but they are there eating away at me and they are most definitely there every night when I can’t sleep.
And they all came pouring out in an instagram post at 1:30am on a Saturday night.
Last night the feelings, the worry, the tears, the anxiety all came pouring out. It was 1am, Rich was in the spare room, Bilbo was in with me and after
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checking his temperature for the hundredth time that day, I broke!
The tears flowed and I felt so alone.
Self care in theory sounds so easy but it is also so easy to let it go by the wayside. To not put yourself first. And this week has been the perfect storm.
Bilbo has been doing so well. Our lives have become more and more ”normal” with the normality we’ve
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tasted our old life. I’ve been thriving, getting back into the driving seat at work. There is so much happening, so much change, so many things to be excited about.
But then this week has hit me like a tonne of bricks and I’ve come to the realisation I can’t have it all… I can’t do it all. And i’ve done myself in trying. And i’m left broken and exhausted as a result.
Mummy Guilt
And so to top
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the week off with a big fat cherry on the top. I’ve got a side of mummy guilt, because I made the call to work this week and Rich did the treatment shift. There is absolutely no reason why it needed both of us. And there is no fucking reason for me to feel guilty…but of course I DO!!
I wanted to be present this week at work because i’ve earned it. I wanted to be with my team presenting to my new boss. And even that didn’t work out…i’m so run down and this week my body basically said
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enough!
None of what i’ve shared is pretty significant. Being a tired mum with mummy guilt is nothing special. I could have written that statement a hundred times before Cancer. But the difference is i’m absolutely FUCKING exhausted and it is a whole different type of exhaustion.
It is suffocating, all consuming, I want to climb out of my own head because i’m exhausted of the thoughts that swim around it.
Having a night off now also comes with a huge dollop of cancer guilt. Do I go and try to enjoy a night out in London with a dear friend. What if Bilbo’s temp moves that extra degree from 37 to 38 and i’m in London?
We’re also having to constantly think about whether our life choices are the right choices. We know some parents don’t leave the house. They have their kids in a bubble. And it is totally understandable.
But that isn’t who we are. We can’t stay home for a day without wanting to climb the walls. Do we keep Bilbo in and then only take H out? He’s got energy he is a 5 year old he gets bored. But what if he ends up sick? Will we live to regret our choice. We have to battle this day in day out about every single decision we make.
111 days is taking its toll. Knowing that we have are only 8% of the way through or we have 92% of our journey still to go hurts, it hurts so fucking much.
Reading about the children who’ve died – not from cancer but from the side effects of treatment terrifies me. Reading about the relapses scares the crap out of me, hearing about the kids that haven’t made it to remission panics me. And we are having to live with this worry EVERY FUCKING DAY.
And for 111 days i’ve not mentioned these thoughts, i’ve not dared to mention it because I couldn’t, but they are there eating away at me and they are most definitely there every night when I can’t sleep.
And they all came pouring out in an instagram post at 1:30am on a Saturday night.
Last night the feelings, the worry, the tears, the anxiety all came pouring out. It was 1am, Rich was in the spare room, Bilbo was in with me and after checking his temperature for the hundredth time that day, I broke!
The tears flowed and I felt so alone.
Self care in theory sounds so easy but it is also so easy to let it go by the wayside. To not put yourself first. And this week has been the perfect storm.
Bilbo has been doing so well. Our lives have become more and more “normal” with the normality we’ve tasted our old life. I’ve been thriving, getting back into the driving seat at work. There is so much happening, so much change, so many things to be excited about.
But then this week has hit me like a tonne of bricks and I’ve come to the realisation I can’t have it all… I can’t do it all. And i’ve done myself in trying. And i’m left broken and exhausted as a result.
Mummy Guilt
And so to top the week off with a big fat cherry on the top. I’ve got a side of mummy guilt, because I made the call to work this week and Rich did the treatment shift. There is absolutely no reason why it needed both of us. And there is no fucking reason for me to feel guilty…but of course I DO!!
I wanted to be present this week at work because i’ve earned it. I wanted to be with my team presenting to my new boss. And even that didn’t work out…i’m so run down and this week my body basically said enough!
None of what i’ve shared is pretty significant. Being a tired mum with mummy guilt is nothing special. I could have written that statement a hundred times before Cancer. But the difference is i’m absolutely FUCKING exhausted and it is a whole different type of exhaustion.
It is suffocating, all consuming, I want to climb out of my own head because i’m exhausted of the thoughts that swim around it.
Having a night off now also comes with a huge dollop of cancer guilt. Do I go and try to enjoy a night out in London with a dear friend. What if Bilbo’s temp moves that extra degree from 37 to 38 and i’m in London?
We’re also having to constantly think about whether our life choices are the right choices. We know some parents don’t leave the house. They have their kids in a bubble. And it is totally understandable.
But that isn’t who we are. We can’t stay home for a day without wanting to climb the walls. Do we keep Bilbo in and then only take H out? He’s got energy he is a 5 year old he gets bored. But what if he ends up sick? Will we live to regret our choice. We have to battle this day in day out about every single decision we make.
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Explorer of the world one day at a time with my 2 boys and husband.
I'm a busy working mum, community builder, talker, positive vibes kinda gal and advocate of refugees. I'm currently rolling my sleeves up to fight my eldest sons Leukaemia diagnosis.
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