I think it's Wednesday, but can't be completely sure, even with the use of a calendar.
Is it the beginning of May? Middle of May? June?!
For the past few weeks, I've been relying a lot upon my husband to give me critical nuggets about what's happening. Take for example this past weekend. When I climbed out of bed at the crack of dawn mumbling that I had an important call, Charlie patiently said, "Jen, it's Saturday. You don't have any conference calls today. Remember? It's the week END."
It feels like I'm in a fog but most days, I'm so busy I don't have time to stop and dwell. But just after I tuck the children in to bed at night, things sort of hit me. That is the time my mind wanders and I'll find myself consumed with what wasn't meant to be and what may be.
So, that's typically when I get in to my pajamas, grab the remote and jump in to bed to watch Comedy Central clutching a big mug of hot tea with honey.
It's funny how just a few weeks ago, I had so many reservations about accepting this job and relocating our family to Virginia and now, I'm chomping at the bit to go. I've lived in California for 20 years. I feel like I've experienced just about everything this wonderful state has to offer - and while I absolutely love it here, I'm ready to try something new.
(At least until the humidity and mosquitoes and ice storms get the best of me.)
From a maternal perspective, I know that working in an office every day will be an adjustment, but I have every confidence that I can do it and do it well. I've already determined that I'll have an early schedule so I'm optimistic there will be plenty of time in the afternoons to spend with the children - just about the time they're getting home from school. And since we're planning to buy a house within 10 minutes from the office, my commute each day will be virtually nil.
What makes this whole situation considerably easier for me is that Charlie is extremely excited at the prospect of being home with the kids and working on his business venture part-time. He is such a wonderful father and husband, everything will be fine. And while I'm going in to this with an enthusiastic and open-minded attitude, I'm also very much aware that if it doesn't work out ... for whatever reason ... Charlie and I can adjust our path, accordingly. It really helps to ease our mind when we remember that we possess the power to alter our course and do what is best for our family.
(Even if that means tucking tail and running back to California in a year.)
Obviously, there is a lot to do between now and July, and thankfully I love a challenge. Just not the kind that comes in the form of a significant health issue, so hopefully, these cysts are nothing to worry about.
In other news...
Way back in December, just after I completed my 3-Day breast cancer walk, I spoke to my doctor about scheduling my first mammogram. Seeing as my sister has breast cancer, there is a family history of the disease and that puts me at an increased risk. As such, I'm eligible to have this procedure completed despite the fact I'm younger than the typical screening age. When I called to schedule the mammogram, they told me that I needed to wait six months after I stopped nursing. Since Henry wasn't fully weaned until the end of December, that meant the soonest they could schedule the procedure was in June.
As it turns out, I'll be having my ultrasound one week, and my mammogram the next. So hopefully, within a few weeks, I'll be reporting that everything is great and I'm so relieved and hallelujah, AMEN! Because I don't want to cloud my thoughts with dark images, I'm choosing not to consider alternative possibilities, but I will interject that my heart and mind are totally open to the chance that there might be an issue and I'm fully prepared to embrace whatever challenges might come my way.
(At least right now.) (As I'm typing this.)
Last month, when my cousin Margaret called to offer her congratulations on my pregnancy, she could not contain her excitement that she was off! the! hook! to do! the 3-Day! walk! this! year! Because really, there was no way I'd be walking 60 miles while eight months pregnant and if I wasn't going to walk - she wasn't either.
Last week when it was confirmed that I had an ectopic pregnancy and then found out that I might have a significant health scare, Margaret was one of the first people that I called. Not only because has a wonderful shoulder to cry upon, but because I felt compelled to tell her that raising money for cancer research has never been more important to me and she absolutely is doing the 3-Day walk with me this year.
Then it was her turn to cry.
(Happy tears, I'm sure.)
Earlier this week, I moved my 3-Day walk registration from San Diego to Washington, D.C. and am already envisioning hosting lemonade sales at the Washington Monument and National Mall. (Note to self: add "find out if I can sell lemonade in front of the White House" to my gargantuan list of things to do.)
What's in me this week?
- The realization that none of us are going to be here forever. (Chew on that for a minute or two. It is simultaneously very sobering and very motivating.)
- The realization that these, right here and now, are the best days of my life.
- The realization that nothing is as important as family and it's impossible to love on them too much.
- The realization that things don't always go as you'd like it to go, but when life hands you lemons, it's best to make lemonade. Preferably that you can then turn around and sell in an effort to raise money for a cure.
SO ... Giddy up! I'm grabbing the reins and taking this pony for a spin.
What's in you?