Outstanding NEWS!!!

I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am about what happened today at clinic. Peyton got her port accessed and she got her chemo, but that’s all pretty normal and mundane.

The big thing was sitting down at her “Binder of Many Papers” and having Cindy (the greatest nurse with the greatest news!) tell me that we were mistaken on Peyton’s projected end of treatment date. I finally figured out how I was so off. I’d had it in my head that it was 3 full years of treatment forever because I was told that we’d do radiation at a year because that’s where it fell in the protocol and she’d have 2 years of maintenance. What I didn’t realize was that maintenance actually started 6 months before radiation!!! That means that she’ll be finished in October of 2008….2008!! This year! She’ll actually celebrate her 5th birthday out of treatment.

I was actually dizzy for a moment when that hit me. I guess that July 2009 seemed so far out of reality for me that I hadn’t really considered the end of treatment. But this date, 9 months from now makes it REAL. She’ll be out of treatment, she’ll be in remission, she’ll be so close to being a full-on survivor….WOW.

Math was never my strong subject, but I have never been so happy to see a counting error in my whole life. I just stared at that piece of paper forever trying to make the words sink in. It was awesome! I was so thrilled that my brain actually left my body and puddle on the floor where I left it when I took off from the clinic without picking up Peyton’s chemo from the pharmacy.

I had to call back to the clinic and tell them that just in case the pharmacy called and said that I didn’t pick up Peyton’s prescriptions…I didn’t. I was too high on the news!!

The light at the end of the chemo tunnel just got a lot bigger and brighter, my friends.

It’s 9:00 PM on the 22cnd and 10 years ago right now, Peter and I were sitting in a room in a hospital together. He was playing on a Nintendo that he’d hooked up to the tv in our deliver room and my mom and I were playing cards. And we were waiting, just contemplating our last hours before we became parents.

I had been pregnant for what felt like a million years, I was roughly the size of a Buick and I was done with the whole baby-on-the-inside thing. I’d actually told my ob that if she didn’t induce that I was going to reach up there and grab him by his head and yank him out myself. I think she finally believed me.

So, there we were. Completely incompetent in the ways of parenting, totally unprepared for what changes we were about to undertake, but joyfully awaiting each wonderful, unexpected moment of it.

The morning of the 23rd I was induced with my mom and dad present….and can I just tell you having my dad in the delivery room was an EXPERIENCE for both of us….so much so that when I asked him if he’d like to come for Rachael’s birth he actually turned white and shook a little bit. My mom used to be a labor and delivery nurse, so she was Pete’s spine during the day….my dad was there to be the photographer and to make sure that I had lovely pictures of this beautiful event forever…Peter’s only job was to NOT PASS OUT.

I had the wonderful chance to have my mother scream in my face because I wouldn’t listen to the doctor when he told me not to push, I had to listen to Peter drone “Be a floppy rag doll” over and over again because that was ALL he could remember from Lamaze class, seeing as how we’d both fall asleep every time they turned the lights out to do the relaxation exercises….and I got to tell my dad “If you flash that light in my face one more #$(@#)*$#@(%#$)*@#$ time I’m going to scream!” I never saw the camera again. I have no beautiful pictures of my son’s birth. I have vague memories of my dad fading away from me quietly and quickly.

Pete’s dad chose an exceptionally inopportune time to call on the phone right in the middle of pushing and I threatened to take off Peter’s baby making material with something rusty and dull if he didn’t make it stop…or maybe I just used my inside voice with that one….but the look I gave him must have gotten the point across. Peter reached over and flipped the phone, but didn’t hang it up. Peter’s father got to hear the entire birth of his first grandchild because he stayed on the phone the whole time. I always loved that.

Nathaniel was this giant 8 lb, 11 oz baby, he was the darkest shade of purple I’d ever seen, he looked like a great big eggplant with hair and lips. But he was beautiful and I never knew that it was possible to love that wholly and completely. He was gross and pretty nasty, but the most glorious thing I’d ever laid eyes on.

Tomorrow that purple-headed baby that tried to bring my spleen along for the ride when he was born turns 10. He loves his video games, he loves his bike, he’s one heck of a chess player, he’s funny and goofy and a can’t carry a tune in a bucket. He does great dances…the sprinkler and the robot are his favorites…he’s at that awkward stage where his arms and legs are growing faster than the rest of him, he has yet to grow into his ears or his teeth and he’s just wonderful. He is a intensely thoughtful, compassionate young man and not a day goes by when I don’t marvel at the person he is. I made that person…..yeah, Pete helped some too, but I get all the credit because I did all the stretching and pushing!

There is no way to explain the ways that God has blessed us without our asking, without our wanting, without us being prepared or deserving. But he truly has.

f.r.o.G…fully relying on God
–Anissa