Daffodil Day

by Veronica on August 28, 2009

in Cancer, Grief, Headfuck

Daffodil Day 3 years ago:

I was sitting in a hospital waiting room having irregular contractions. According to my dates, Amy was 5 days overdue. According to their dates she wasn’t due for another 2 days. I was big, heavy and uncomfortable.

My name called.

Come through.

An American doctor. He was brisk. I told him I was having irregular contractions and he offered to check my cervix. Or more correctly, he offered to have his medical student check my cervix so long as I didn’t mind.

Two checks later, it was ascertained that my cervix hadn’t jumped ship and gone for a holiday like the med student suspected. Nor had it gotten lost, she just wasn’t very good at checks yet.

I was pronounced 3cm dilated and ready to drop. Thrilled, I put my pants back on as the doctor told me he’d probably see me tonight.

We walked out of there happy, certain our baby was on the way.

***

One hospital floor down, Nathan’s father lay in a bed, having just been diagnosed with cancer.

***

We bought a daffodil pin that day, as well as a little yellow bear. Still a little shell shocked, we walked out of the hospital not knowing whether to celebrate the impending birth of our daughter, or cry for the diagnosis my father-in-law had been given.

***

Three years later my father in law is alive after undergoing intensive chemotherapy. It wasn’t easy, but then, cancer never is.

Three years later we’re getting things ready for Amy’s birthday. Despite being told I’d give birth that night, Amy hung around in there for another 8 days. We’ve got presents hiding in the closet and I’m trying to decide on a cake flavour. I’m counting sleeps until and hoping that things will just fall into place like normal.

Three years later I’m grieving my grandmother, a victim of a cancer she was never at risk for. She, who’d never smoked a day in her life struck down by lung cancer. Her second run in with cancer, leaving us broken without her. Stronger, maybe, but flawed. Always flawed. Grieving.

Three years later I’m not sure how I’m going to get through Amy’s birthday without Nan. I’ve spent so long coping and just doing what I’ve got to do that I haven’t taken time to cry or process anything. I’m starting to be very not okay anymore and I don’t know how to handle that.

Three years later I don’t have the time to grieve alone. These children of mine have wants and needs and their wants are mostly louder than their needs.

Three years later and the edge of my purse still has the daffodil pin stuck in it from so long ago. A pink ribbon has joined it.

Showing support for the people who suffer; the people who die.

It’s not enough, but it’s all I’ve got.

A Free Man August 28, 2009 at 10:54 am

Great post. I’ve become very generous with cancer charities lately and days like today are a good reminder to dig deep.

I got a bear for Zach and am going to pick up some daffodils for the missus on the way home.

Renee August 28, 2009 at 12:39 pm

Another poignant post.. They say it gets easier over time.. They lie! Look at those beautiful bubs of yours and cherish every moment.. Keep your chin up!

Sharon August 28, 2009 at 1:37 pm

The hard edges of your grief will soften with time but until then you just have to keep plodding along the best you can. And that, sweetheart, you are doing with all the grace you can muster.

Three years ago I was just leaving my surgeon’s rooms having been put onto only 6-monthly check ups following my double mastectomy so was feeling quite good.

I always buy some daffodil things. This year I have a bright and cheerful shopping bag and a(nother) pretty enameled pin.

Hope the party goes well. Should do, give any small child presents and yummy sweet things and they’re happy. Lots of pictures please for those of us who can’t attend 😉

Pop and Ice August 28, 2009 at 1:53 pm

Being Very Not Ok is ok only for a while. It’s hard to lose a family member, but don’t forget those around you who need you NOW. Direct your energies their way and hopefully your grief will begin to abate. And be good to yourself as well. Be well, Veronica. I’ll be praying for you.

Xbox4NappyRash August 28, 2009 at 4:02 pm

Excellent post, powerful.

river August 28, 2009 at 5:32 pm

Damn! I forgot to buy my Daffodil pin, and I was at the shop this morning, meant to buy one of those pretty Daffodil shopping bags too, since I missed the chance last year when they sold out too quickly. I’ll get one Monday.
Just make Amy’s favourite cake for the birthday, saves you trying to decide a flavour.

Janet B August 28, 2009 at 5:45 pm

We don’t have Daffodil Day here – pink ribbons yes, and that’s sad, because daffodils I guess, are to remind us of ALL kinds of cancer. I love Daffodils, and am going to pick some up at the florist on my way home from work today. For your Nan, Veronica and as a reminder to support all cancer victims out there. Much love!

Marylin August 28, 2009 at 6:53 pm

((hugs))

Tanya August 28, 2009 at 8:28 pm

I always support those kind of things, I think they’re very good, because most people can spare $2.00 for a badge or ribbon and it all goes to a good cause. I used to collect the guide dog wuppies. I think everyone did.

My pop passed away from bowel cancer so I will be buying a daffodil.

trish August 28, 2009 at 8:51 pm

It still hurts (hugs) time might ease the pain but not the grief or memories or love we miss.

I bought a pen today …for my Dad he died 4yrs and 2 days ago.

Happy 2nd blogoversary too.

You will get through this you are a strong woman and Nan’s legacy.

Mrs. C August 28, 2009 at 10:08 pm

I don’t understand this, either. Sometimes it seems that there’s no way to get out of the problems with cancer and others, a few treatments and they’re all better. Things are improving with research etc. but they’re nowhere near where they need to be when it cuts people’s lives so short. :[

tiff August 28, 2009 at 10:33 pm

Goosies.
So bittersweet.

lceel August 29, 2009 at 12:51 am

Everything we do – have done – goes into making us the person we are – and are going to be. You have been through some hard, hard stuff. But you always knew you would have to, one day. It’s just not anything you looked for. It’s too soon. And now you have these physical issues to deal with. And two children. And all the other stuff around you. The house. The critters. Schwacking stuff. And yet, through it all you continue to stand tall. You are vital and strong – so much a reflection of your Nan, and your Mum, and so much a source of strength and inspiration for Amy. You, my dear, are a Superhero. You are Wonder woman, Catwoman and Storm all rolled into one. You are amazing.

There. I said it again. Amazing.

Barbara August 29, 2009 at 4:34 am

Well Amy hung around for a good long time then. Surely she wanted to come out and meet you? Babies are mysterious!

I’m glad that your father in law is still around but so sorry about your Nan. You will cope on Amy’s birthday as best you can – it’s all any of us can do.

Happy blogiversary. You’re practically an old woman of blogging now!

Taz August 29, 2009 at 12:55 pm

big big hugs..

thinking of you..

am always here if ya need.. remember that..

big hugs

MistressB August 29, 2009 at 2:20 pm

You know it’s ok to not be okay for a while don’t you?

frogponsdrock August 29, 2009 at 4:03 pm

We can be very not okay together. ok.

PlanningQueen August 29, 2009 at 10:28 pm

You write so beautifully on such a painful issue for you. Wishing you strength.

taz August 30, 2009 at 10:00 pm

Maddi just saw the pic of Issac and said Cai.. lol

Kevin, Strength and Fitness Blog November 8, 2009 at 1:26 am

Beautifully written post. We need to give faces and names to the cancer statistics. Hopefully we’ll have a cure some day. Until then, we just have to keep spreading the word and working on prevention.

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