Deep breaths, deep breaths...

My mom called about an hour ago, while Nora and I were driving around town. I had a craving for T*co B*ll and so had scrounged up some change and bought myself a crunchy taco supreme. As I was leaving the drive-thru, my mom called. I knew something was up when she said, "are you at home?" She then told me to call when I got home.

Fifteen minutes later (and much worrying about what it could be), I returned her call, and once again my world turned upside down. Her cancer is back; in the same breast as last time. She has to have a mastectomy and reconstruction on February 25. After that, she can't lift anything for six weeks. And of course she'll be recovering for a week or so after the surgery, anyway. We don't know if the cancer has spread; she has an MRI tomorrow to see if/where it has spread.

This time, she's going to tell people and not keep quiet about it (which she did last time, mostly to protect my brother). I'm glad, because it will give her and my dad the support they'll need.

So, I'm sitting here, half-hysterical for two main reasons:
-I'm worried about my mom, and heartbroken that she has to go through this again, after being cancer-free for almost two years. I'm also terrified that the MRI tomorrow will show that the cancer has spread (although she had a clear MRI in August) and she'll wind up dying. And while I know she's going to die at some point, I was sort of banking on it not being for another 20 years, at least. I really don't want to lose my mother while I'm still in my thirties. There's a good chance I won't, but there's still that chance.

-My due date is either February 24 or March 3, depending on whether you go by my dates or the ultrasound. Because my mother's surgery is on the 25th (and she can't move it earlier; she asked), she will essentially be out of commission for the first six weeks of Junior's life. I'm getting ready to have my second child, I'm at a high risk for Post-Partum Depression (I have a history of depression, and had undiagnosed PPD last time), and my main support person besides Harry (who is a wonderful father/husband and who is taking two weeks of paternity leave) will be unavailable.

I know we'll get through it, and thankfully we do have Harry's mom, who is about to retire and will be available. She lives four hours away, but I know she'll be happy to help. It's just not the same. I want my mommy!

Oh and today? Is my mother's 69th birthday. What a rotten day for her to receive news like this.

Prayers would be appreciated. And virtual chocolate. You know what really sucks? I can't even DRINK (alcohol, I mean) as a coping mechanism.

And for those of you I know In Real Life (only two that I know of, but there could be more) who read this blog, keep mum about the news for now, because Mom's not going to tell anyone until closer to the surgery. You probably would anyway, but better safe than sorry.

Nora is destroying her room because I left her there with the gate in place so I could cry, call Harry, cry, post this blog entry, and then probably cry some more. I guess I should go check on her.