Transition...

By definition, "transition" is the most difficult  phase of labor for most women. Physically, a mom is experiencing contractions  2-3 minutes apart, lasting 60-90 seconds, and are  very strong in intensity.  Contractions may even "piggy-back" which means  one contraction may start to fade away and another  one comes along immediately.  During this phase she may notice nausea, vomiting,  burping, or hiccups; shaking; hot/cold feelings;  fatigue; and sensitivity to touch.  Emotionally, moms can become restless, irritable,  discouraged, and confused.  She may find that she focuses inward as she works  with her labor.  She may have a hard time communicating her wishes.  This is the point in labor when she usually needs  the most support. During transition, labor support is crucial for the mom's physical and emotional well-being.  --------------------------------

You may wonder what pregnancy transition
and my life have to do with each other.

So let me explain.

-------------------------------

I woke up this morning at 5 something and laid in 
my bed quietly.  

I thought to myself...

"How did I get here?"

"When did this become my life?"

"How?"

"How did my husband end up with terminal cancer?"

"How did this become my life?"

How did things change so quickly from 
comfortable and known...

to

Hard and unknown?

How?

I was thinking about all these changes.

This transition in our life.

And it reminded me of the second stage of
labor, the time when your body is getting ready
to give birth.

Contractions, or changes, are coming fast 
and furious.  Sometimes piled one on top of 
the other.  It seems like every day there is
a new, painful and difficult change in our life.

The physical symptoms of transition are also
mirroring real pregnancy transition.  Feelings
of anxiety, stress, sickness, loss of appetite,
shaking and fatigue.

It's 7:35 pm here and after a full day of work 
and a few hours of homework, there is nothing more
I would rather do than fall into my bed
and go to sleep.  

I am spent.

Emotionally. Physically. Mentally and Spiritually.

Kyle is tired as well after his long day of
chemo yesterday.

We are exhausted.  This is our reality
day after day after day.

I long for days of a past life I cannot 
quite remember anymore.  

Days of carefree innocence.

Pre-cancer days.

Some days I feel restless and emotional,
irritable and confused.  Today at work,
tears welled in my eyes several times
and I had to distract myself to continue
on.  Sometimes I could only do things
in 5 minute increments. 

Breath in.  Breath out.

And the contractions keep coming.
Overwhelming my heart and mind and soul.

We have a hard time expressing what our needs
are, and how they can be met.

Because, at this point in our "labor" there
is no one that can step in and remove the pain
of change. No one can fix the past, the present,
and all that lies ahead.

"During transition in labor is the time when 
the laborer  needs the most support--it is crucial 
for her physical and emotional well being."

I cannot tell you how much the transition phase
of childbirth mirrors my life at this very moment.

I feel like I am in the very long, very emotional
and very hard process of giving birth to one last
child.  One last time.

This time the process will not be quick. 
It will not end with a beautiful pink new baby
swaddled in blankets and showered with gifts.

This time, changes will come fast and furious
until, wave after wave of new things heaped upon
us, comes to an end.

The end of all of our labors will not be
a wonderful release after months of pregnancy
and days and hours of labor...it will be
a whole new stage of changes and waves of grief.

I sometimes wonder if I will survive the 
end result.  I wonder if I will have the strength
to dig inside myself and find a power greater
than any I ever knew existed inside a human being.

I'm not even sure it's there. Inside of me.

Sometimes, I want to curl up in a ball and just
be still. Quiet.  Disconnected from time and reality.

For a very long time.

Sometimes I long for the ease of my old life
and worries that didn't cut my heart and drain
my soul and leave me empty.

I envy the people around me for their simplicity
of worries.

Worries of teens. and finances. and tests.
and what to fix for dinner. and cavities.
and broken down cars. and fights with loved
ones. and things that used to be so easy.

To fix and change and make right.

I asked Kyle the other day if I would ever
have another day in my life when there was
not the weight of stress pressing down on my
heart and mind and quite literally, my shoulders.

heavy. heavy. heavy.

The future feels daunting to me some days.
The pressure to be and do and make and provide.
To school and work and love and give.
To carry and lift and love and heal.
To breath and step and move and smile.
To have hope and faith and joy and pain.
To press forward and into the unknown
with courage and steadfastness.

Everyone else moves in and out of our labor.
Giving and taking and helping and loving--
but in the end leaving the birthing process
to us.

We have a deep and abiding gratitude for those
who have stepped so courageously, in, and held
our hands during the biggest contractions,
and loudest wails, and deepest darkest nights.

Without you, we would be crushed by the 
weight of the pains of this labor.

So while I bear my soul and let you look into
the deepest recesses of who I am right now,
I also thank you.  Those who have helped
us along every step of every wave
(after wave after wave after wave after
wave) of contractions.

Thank you for being our physical and emotional
support.  Thank you for bearing our burdens.
Thank you for helping to bear our burdens.
Thank you for hours of love and advice and
dinners and phone calls and ears and 
listening and understanding and not 
understanding and wondering if we are crazy
and STILL loving us despite our mistakes
and faults and sadness and insanity and
heartache and joy and sorrow and chemo days
and up days and down days and this whole
stinking crazy transitional time of our lives
called "terminal cancer".

These people, who have held us and loved us,
include family and children
and loved ones and relatives and associates
and strangers and people we've never met
and people that we love more than life itself
and people that we have grown to love more
than life itself and relationships that have
healed and renewed and grown and changed.

We love you.  We thank you.

And that is what I've got for today.