Thirty

[This is what I wrote the night before my bday- Nov 22]

Six months ago as I looked toward my 30th birthday, I was honestly a little depressed. My twenties had been pretty exciting. Being a newlywed with Brad had been a blast, we traveled all over the world, and even got to have an adventure in Boston for two years. Moving from Boston to Dallas, and then into the suburbs with two kids had been quite the slowdown. I could even see a minivan in my near future. I was having a "one-third life crisis".

Then five months ago all of that changed. It is a strange thing to have your view on birthdays totally flipped around. It was as if I was transported back to 15 when turning 16 was the best thing since sliced bread. I suppose every birthday could be your last but when you have a prognosis like mine and you know there is a specific (and substantial) percent-chance of not making it to your next birthday, it makes it a much more sobering celebration.

I used to be annoyed that I was getting wrinkles so young. I have these great smile lines around my eyes from a combination of too much sun for a fair-skinned gal and lots of smiling over the last thirty years. I would complain: how could someone have pimples and wrinkles at that same time?! It just didn't seem fair.

Now my perspective has completely changed. No longer will I complain about wrinkles, never again will I be upset about turning another year older. I am so thankful for turning thirty, for being in the burbs with two beautiful children, for seven amazing years of marriage to my husband, and for "boring" Friday and Saturday evenings at home.

Life is so extremely precious. My hope is that as you read this, you will take this to heart and apply what I am learning without having to go through cancer yourself.

[This is what actually happened on my bday- Nov 23]

It turned out that my 30th birthday was pretty depressing. For some reason I couldn't get my mind past "what if this is my last birthday?". I kept picturing the survival curve and thinking about how there is a 30% chance that this would be my last. Depressing, right?

I was also super weepy all day. I was awake with my thoughts most of the previous night so that didn't help anything.  We got ourselves to church that morning but Brad had to say our prayer requests (I didn't trust myself to speak without crying) and we ended up leaving after small group and not staying for the service so I could take a nap and try to feel better. I was a hot mess (story of my life, right??).

People were super sweet with flowers, gifts, and cards, and that really did help pick me up through the day. My folks took us out for Mexican (and I may have cheated and had a margarita). But even that was kind of a bummer since the service took forever - we were there for 2+ hours which isn't the best when you have two kids under two trying to keep it together. And my mom asked for them to sing to me but they just brought over the dessert instead (I'm one of those weird people who actually likes the waiters singing to you).

One really good highlight from my bday was a quilt that many of you signed over the past few months. A friend made the quilt and then had it sent all over the US to have many friends from different parts of my life sign. Brad did a great job coordinating the movement between cities. Thank you to everyone that worked to get it signed and sent it from city to city.

Thank you Chadin and Mrs. G for the quilt!

I think the biggest thing contributing to me being down on my bday was the tumor popping back up the week before. With the week-long delay in chemo it went from not being able to feel the tumor to it being 1x2 inches overnight. That is ridiculously scary. Whenever my tumor comes back it is harder for me to stay positive and think that we will be able to beat this. Sometimes I am able to rationalize through it and know that worrying about it isn't going to make it smaller.  "Don't worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will have enough trouble of its own", right?