It’s incredible what a difference a year can make—actually, 384 days to be exact. For the first time since I was released from continuous care, Terry and I returned to the Bone Marrow Transplant office for my one-year check-up. This appointment was something I had eagerly anticipated a year ago, during a time when simply getting out of bed felt like an impossible feat. Back then, I struggled just to make it from the bed to the bathroom, let alone to the car to drive to the clinic. But, as the saying goes, time passes—and it certainly did.
This past year has been a rollercoaster, filled with health highs and lows. As I sit in the waiting room now, social-distanced six feet away from Terry, who’s wearing his mask, I am overwhelmed with gratitude. Gratitude that this year looks so much different than the last. Gratitude that after this appointment, I’ll be heading home to cuddle my babies and spend our first Christmas as a family of five, with Kanan now 17 months old.
However, along with all this thankfulness, there’s also a sense of sadness. My heart aches for those who are still in the midst of their journey, those who can’t spend the holidays with their families, or those feeling overwhelmed by their darkest days. I wish I could tell them, “This too shall pass,” and that hopelessness won’t always be the only feeling they experience. As hard as the road is, my message would be to keep fighting. But I also know how heavy that battle is, and how real and valid those feelings of despair are.
Looking back is difficult, but I’m so thankful for the future ahead. Terry and I are excited to experience Christmas through the eyes of our children. We’ll stay up late as a family, sipping hot cocoa and watching Christmas movies, putting gifts under the tree, and waking up to three excited little ones. These are the moments we once took for granted, thinking they’d always be there.
As for my health, I’m officially one year into remission—an incredible milestone we celebrated on December 5th, my “rebirthday.” It’s the best news I’ve received, not once but twice—from both my oncologist and BMT team. While this is an overwhelming highlight, we also discussed the ongoing exhaustion, nausea, and GI issues that may linger as long-term side effects of chemotherapy. Our conversation highlighted the importance of managing my health moving forward and how it will require ongoing care, much like someone who’s been a lifetime smoker or has diabetes after a transplant. Although I wish I could erase these lingering effects and permanent changes, I am deeply grateful for how much I’ve improved. I’ve transitioned back into full-time mom mode, and I even returned to work, clocking in 30 hours a week—something I’m proud of! So even with the setbacks, I’m counting all the wins.
I want to take a moment to thank everyone who has supported Terry and me this past year. To those who never received the thank-you cards I wrote, I’m truly sorry. The intentions were there, but have recently discovered a stack of unmailed cards in our kitchen drawer. But in all seriousness, we are so blessed to have a family and community that have rallied behind us, lifting us up when we had no strength left.
We couldn’t have made it through this year without our incredible family—our children, parents, siblings, and grandparents. When a loved one is diagnosed with cancer, it doesn’t just affect them; it touches everyone who loves them, often in ways they may never fully express. Our family showed up for us in ways we never expected, and our children, in particular, were the driving force that carried us through the toughest days.
Lastly, and most importantly, I want to thank my husband. The unsung hero in this journey. Terry never stopped supporting, loving, or pushing me—even on the days I didn’t want to get out of bed. He knew I was stronger than I believed and never let me doubt the future. It was never an “if” we would make it through, but a “when” and for that I will forever be thankful.
As you’ve probably noticed, my blogging has slowed down a lot. It’s not that I don’t love sharing my story, but balancing work, motherhood, and exhaustion has made it harder to keep up. I do plan to continue sharing major medical updates, though probably less frequently—which, honestly, is a good sign!
Until next time, I’ll be here, living life #OneDayAtATime.
Stillness in the Chaos 