On Friday the 13, 2015 I found myself in the ER of Texas Children’s Hospital at the persistence of an urgent care pediatrician. In those long hours of waiting, testing, and trying my hardest to put meaning to the concerned looks exchanged from technicians and nurses, my mommy feelers were on high alert. Something was very wrong with my son.
Mommy Feelers and Neuroblastoma
Those mommy feelers had been on high alert since the day my son was born. He cried ALL THE TIME and when he wasn’t crying he was sleeping. Like, A LOT! Those mommy feelers are God’s gift to us mothers that let us know something is wrong. The ER doctor walked into the room after eight hours of testing, and briskly told me my nine month old baby boy had cancer. I was told it might be Wilms’ Tumor or it could be Neuroblastoma. It turned out to be the latter. That day my baby was christened Super G and his motto became ‘Blast out Neuroblastoma!’
Neuroblastoma or Atomic Bomb?
March 15, 2015 we received the official diagnosis of Neuroblastoma. It felt like an atomic bomb had been dropped in the middle of our very full and very busy lives. I was a mother of four with number five on the way. My husband was climbing the corporate ladder. Our three older children were involved with multiple extracurricular activities. This doomsday event completely blew our lives apart as we all scattered in different directions. Super G and I were living at Texas Children’s Hospital, his dad living at work and our children being bounced back and forth from my parents to nannies. Everything seemed to come to a screeching halt and at the same time we were catapulted into a world that was so alien to us. The world was called Neuroblastoma. Every spare minute I had was consumed by all things childhood cancer. It was more than a doomsday attack on our lives; it was a momsday attack that changed the trajectory of my motherhood.
Surviving a Momsday Moment
Through the long chemo cycles, the thousands of steps walked at the hospital, and many doctor’s faces that have seemed to blur together now; against all odds, we survived. We only survived with the power of our community. A community that came together to fundraise, feed us, mow our lawn, clean our home and pray for us. A community that continues today! Through my faith in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit I was able to survive what I thought was the ultimate, worst, most awful thing to ever happen to any mother. Childhood cancer and Neuroblastoma are, of course, the worst, most awful thing to happen to any mother or child, but my momsday moments didn’t end with that glorious NED (No Evidence of Disease) announcement on October 19, 2015. In fact, I have experienced many more doomsday events in my motherhood since 2015.
These momsday moments take your breath away as if the breath has been knock out of you form a very high fall. It’s as if life stepped into the ring and knocked you out, but you didn’t know you were even in a fight to begin with. You look up and get dizzy, you sit down and feel too heavy to move, you glance left or right and everything seems out of focus. Good hearted individuals show up in your life with the most asinine advice and all you can think is “someone make it all go away!” Momsday moments are not for the faint of heart. They are for the mothers that roar like lions. The ones that do not rest, do not stop advocating, and above all else, do not stop living. Mothers with a strength of character that will not let them lie in the road to die because motherhood just got too hard. We are survivors. I am a survivor of a momsday moment; childhood cancer. Super G is now NINE YEARS cancer free. He really did Blast out Neuroblastoma!
