I’ve started this first entry so many times. To myself, I’ve been insisting that I use humor in spades, like I’m the Chandler Bing of cancer moms…but honestly, with cancer, there can be more bad days than good and if I always cover that up with sarcasm, this blog just wouldn’t be authentic. And, since I plan to be as authentic as possible, let me tell you:
Cancer sucks.
Everything about it is literally the worst. I’m a mom, but I spend more days watching someone else take care of my kids than I do actually being their mom. My beautiful, amazing, spitfire 14 month old daughter crawls to Grandma and Daddy without hesitation, but will cry if someone tries to put her on my lap for a cuddle. My insanely smart, hyper-empathetic 7 year old son, meanwhile, can be counted on for cuddles…but is just emotionally wrecked now. Minecraft is his safe space, and that’s not okay.
That paragraph of negativity could go on for a realllllllyyyy long time, but I figure you’ve got the gist of it. And honestly, I’ll delve more into all that as time goes on. For now, I’ll introduce you to me, my family and my diagnosis.
My name is Meghan. I turned 38 on February 14th, am an aspiring author and B&B owner, wife to David and mom to Isaiah (7) and Eleora Jane (14 months). This probably goes without saying if you’ve seen the rest of my website, but I’m also a family photographer. I received my cancer diagnosis of Stage IV Colon Cancer on January 11th…because we REALLY like to start out the new year with a bang in our family. I mean, this is the second year in a row we met our insurance deductible before the end of January. So, you know. Happy New Year Endahls!
My babies. Photographed by me at StudioStudio in Ann Arbor, Michigan.
The diagnosis is still incredibly surreal for me. I vacillate between being very physically aware of the cancer and chemotherapy side effects, to truly feeling like I’m having an out of body experience. How am I here? What is going on? How many episodes of Castle can I possibly watch in a week while I lay in bed feeling sorry for myself but also feeling very, very sick? (The answer is…a lot. Nathan Fillion, man).
Through it all, it is well. Yes, this is a terrible season to be in. I frequently feel fear, resentment, insecurity. But not a day goes by that I don’t see and believe with every fiber of my being that God is completely in control. I have never in my life been so utterly dependent on Him (at least, not consciously). Like, there is absolutely no aspect in this cancer battle where I have the slightest bit of control. The doctors decide what chemotherapy will help me “live longer,” they decide what drugs will get me through the side effects, and then I submit to those things. I suffer from chronic, very painful stomachaches because of my cancer and because of the stent that was placed in my colon, and I submit to those things. I submit to the loss of snuggling my daughter to sleep, of telling my son “no” instead of “yes” when he asks to play. I submit, I submit, I submit. And even though this reality makes me want to give up or cry or scream, I absolutely know that God will be glorified.
I want Him to be glorified.
It is well with my soul.
