Okay

So, is there, like, some sort of protocol for re-entering the blogosphere after an absence of over a month?

Because it feels weird to just jump right back in. In fact, it almost feels intimidating to be typing here again.

I felt guilty for awhile about my silence here, but then I realized that the silence itself speaks volumes about the past month that words or photos simply couldn't.

There's been drama....ummm, both literally and figuratively.

I've taken shockingly few photos, all of them mediocre at best.

I've felt at a loss for words.

I didn't feel myself. I don't want to say I was depressed because many people actually experience depression and I don't want to cheapen what they go through, but I felt..... low.

And I really, really, really don't want to make my blogging comeback with a depressing post, because everything really is okay. Life is a continual mixture of percieved good things and perceived bad things, and I say "perceived" because God is wholly and completely good all of the time, I'm just too earthly minded to always understand His good. And I don't want sympathy.....or even empathy. And is that prideful? If anything, I'll just take the silent solidarity of everyone else in this world who knows that life is not always peachy (even for a peachy person like me)......and even more than that, the silent solidarity of knowing that it's okay to not feel okay.

December felt long. Very, very long. And there's no use chronologizing it. But the moments that stand out are when the "sickness" hit me, one hour into my moms' Bible study Christmas party that I was hosting. I felt physically awful, I knew why, and in my mind, the party was a flop because I was a dud.

Then there was the breast cancer diagnosis my mom received right before Thanksgiving that ended in a mastectomy in the middle of December. I did not want to drive the 2 hours to see her after her surgery. I knew it was selfish, but I didn't want to go and I didn't know why. But I packed enough snacks to get through the drive while still feeling "sick," made a noticeable amount of food stops (even my 11 year old brother noticed) during the day, and perched at the end of her bed after surgery.

Then there was Christmas, which really was great, and a week later, I found myself sitting in an oncology office with my mom. Both she and I were younger than everyone else in the room by decades, and the reason for my selfishness hit me. My reason for feeling "sick," that I had known all along, had been officially announced to everyone over Christmas, and I honestly did not want to sit in an oncology office while I was young and pregnant with 2 preschoolers at home and discuss cancer treatment options for my mom. I didn't want to see her scar. I didn't want to see advertisements for wigs. I didn't want every ounce of her remaining energy to go into the never-ending activities of my pre-adolescent brother and listen to her every attempt to help me be shrowded with his impossibly needy schedule. But I swallowed my selfishness with a root beer and a greasy burger that made me feel both satisfied and guilty at the same time, and I drew pictures on restaurant napkins of the differences between tamoxifen and aromatase inhibitors in an attempt to help her better understand her options.

And that paragraph? That should all be deleted, never to be read again. But I'm not gonna do it. I'm gonna keep it, because half of that I didn't even realize 'til now. I've forgotten how half of my realizations come through pecking away at this filthy keyboard.

And people, again with all the really's. Things really, really, really are okay. Mom doesn't need radiation. All the cancer was removed. She will likely not need chemo. Just an oral pill for the next five years. If anyone has to go down the breast cancer route, this was the way to do it. Praise God.

And yes (I'm starting another paragraph with a conjunction. For shame.), I'm pregnant. It wasn't a surprise. We've adjusted to the idea for the most part and are getting excited. This was something I've wanted for awhile. But sometimes for me, even a good change is a bit scary. And you know what? That's okay, too.

So for all you people out there that need details and have found my past cryptic posts a bit confusing, I'm eleven weeks along and due to deliver this baby right in the midst of green bean canning season. Yes, a summer pregnancy.....and a summer birthday! After a string of 4+ around-Christmas birthdays, I am happy for a birthday that will land smack dab in the middle of my glory days - sweet summertime.

And yes, I will have a garden.

Yes, I will make homemade baby food with stuff from my garden.

Yes, I will attempt to make an effort to try to maybe do some canning this summer.

Yes, I will continue to go to all my mom's appointments.

Yes, I will co-direct and act in a large theatrical production of Pollyanna.

Because it's all okay.

And yes, I'm feeling so.much.better. Physically and mentally.

Yes, I did sprawl out on the deck in shorts in January in Minnesota on a 60 degree day. (No, I did not get a tan).

That is more than okay.

And today is my firstborns' birthday. I couldn't say it better than I do here.