Adventures of the New Mommy With the Big "C"

This post is hard for me to even start, but I'll do my best. Nearly 4 years ago I walked into the Foglia YMCA to interview for a position at the Front Desk. I was greeted with smiling faces, exuding warmth and love. I walked out that day and had a pretty good idea that I'd gotten the job. Not a week later and I was welcomed into the Foglia family.  This is more than a building. This has been more than a job. I've met some of the most AMAZING, LOVING, COMPASSIONATE & LOYAL individuals. I can't tell you the feeling of relief when you know you're welcome there. It's almost immediate - it's evident to everyone walking in. As someone brand new to the state of Illinois, I was terrified of the idea of starting somewhere new. The second you walk in those doors, those feelings are immediately alleviated.  These people are my family. They watched me spread my wings and move onto the Sage YMCA where I met more wonderful humans. They welcomed me back whe...

Is there anything more terrifying than being faced with death? Imagine being told at 28 that you may die, not see your child grow up, that your cancer has a higher rate of recurrence than the rest; it’s aggressive, but hasn’t traveled any further than it’s original growing place.  I try so hard to focus on that small piece of good news. Every day I wake up and struggle not knowing if there could be cancer growing in my body. WHY CAN’T I MAKE THIS FEELING GO AWAY? Why can’t I move on? Pretend this didn’t happen? I did chemo, I got all the surgeries. I did everything I could. Right? Insert Paige, the second guesser. Maybe it spread in the week and a half I waited to have chemo after I gave birth? Maybe that small cell traveled to my brain and is growing there? Maybe these allergies and sinus issues I’ve been having a really a brain tumor that is slowly taking my life away? This is PTSD and generalized anxiety disorder. my friends. Obsessive thoughts. Constant. ...

I don’t have an explanation for what I’m about to write. I think I just want to write it down.  I’m just so freaking sad. I’m paranoid. Nervous. Sunken down deeper in the hole than I’ve ever been. The feeling literally steals my happiness. Andrew and I just bought our first house, we close in one day. What should be such an exciting time in our lives - is overshadowed by the dark cloud that looms over me.  Looking back at what was poised to be the happiest day of my life, the birth of my son; I had just been given the worst news of my life. I can’t help but think that same thing will happen again. I can’t be allowed these wonderful blessings, can I?  My brain tells me: Cancer will sneak in, and steal everything and everyone I love. It will take me away. From my son, my husband, my mom, my sister. They will live and move on and my life will have been for nothing. My son won’t even remember my face, how much I love him and prayed for him. Doesn’t this s...

This past week has been a sad one, with two very well known individuals taking their own lives. While I don’t normally comment, I wanted to say something- this affects a few of my closest friends, and even me in a way.  I in no way can reflect on how others feel, but I can tell you how my anxiety can throw me into deep, deep throws of depression. Since returning home from Iowa last weekend, I’ve been struggling a lot. Had some weird stuff going on, making me think it was cancer related. Being me, I texted my doc who got me in right away. He did an exam and told me I was fine. However, the past few days I have spiraled someplace down deep.  I can’t get out of my head. I can’t focus on anything but cancer and death. I’m having trouble just getting through the day. I’m excusing myself at work to catch my breath and cry. I don’t want to burden others or want them to think I’m crazy.  My mind just won’t quit. What if my cancer is growing back? What if I die ...

In the last six months, I’ve been able to take a few steps back and concentrate on getting back to normal life. Unfortunately, Cancer always seems to rear its ugly head. I want so badly to forget about it completely, but something always brings me back. Why can’t I move on? Why can’t I just quit worrying? I guess that’s not how Cancer works. It pops up when you least expect it. You can be feeling perfectly and BAM, a pain you haven’t felt lingers a little too long. You wait for it to pass, but what happens if you wait too long? Do you go to the doctor right away or wait to see if it subsides? Maybe it’s nothing, but it could be something. If I wait too long, I will die. It’s on Facebook, when someone you know gets diagnosed way too young. Frankly, it’s all over my social media- so much so, that I actually gave up my original Instagram. One of my favorite oncology nurses asked me recently to be a part of a cancer support group for young people. She said she thought I’d be gr...

I’ve only ever had my heart broken twice. Once by my first love, and once by cancer.  People experience heartbreak in different ways. A lost loved one, death, suffering - they can leave a soul unable to heal. While I’d like to tell you that my heart is completely healed, that would be a lie. The rest of the world has moved on, but I have not.  My face smiles at you and tells you I’m doing great! The reality is - I’m still stuck. Cancer broke my heart, and nearly broke my soul.  I won’t tell you I’ve given up. I wake up every day and try to move on; I try to forget. I take my medication daily and pray that the fear stays under wraps so I can make it through the day.  My message to you today, whatever the cause of your broken heart, it’s okay to not be okay. You’re always entitled to truly feel what you need to feel. People around you may move on, but know I’m right there with you. I am not healed, no matter how many times I tell you I am....

Well, here we are. September 27th. I honestly don't quite know what to say. September 27th, 2016 at 9:38am, 36 weeks pregnant, drying myself off from the shower, I got a call from an almost complete stranger telling me that I had Breast Cancer. I can't tell you what went through my head in that moment. When someone tells you you've got cancer, it feels like a dream. "This can't be happening to me," I thought. Because seriously, you NEVER expect something like this to happen to you, especially at 28 years old when you're expecting your first child. This marks one year that I didn't know I would have. One year of fighting fights I never wished to fight. One year (almost) of my greatest joy of this life - Benjamin. Since then, I've delivered my babe, started and finished chemo, had a lumpectomy, was declared cancer FREE, and had a double mastectomy. I've been supported by people near and far. I can't tell you how much it meant, and ...