I meant to write on my third anniversary of blogging. The most shocking thing, after much reflection, is just how little I am thinking about TTC these days. Another brief update will have to do.
40 is on the horizon. My first dermatology checkup post baby resulted in a pre-cancerous mole being removed from my left arm. Congratulating myself on catching this early, I was hoping to duck another shark bite. Otherwise known as the perimeter cut. And 22 stitches later, I have a matching set of puckery scars on my left side. It is par for the course after melanoma. I call it an arm lift. Less jiggle when I wave with my left hand now, see?
It feels like non-news, really. I know that it's a big deal. Cancer. But living a long, happy life when you are predisposed to skin cancer, means you are going to get cut up. Coming from a person never had one stitch in her life prior to being 35, and being deeply phobic of needles, it is sort of miraculous. I have lots to live for and, for now, the scars aren't in places that clothing doesn't cover. I'm not much on short sleeves. Another thing to be grateful for.
Work remains messy. Sleep is not guaranteed. And I am thinking that my distraction tactics for E have turned her into a puppy. She growls. And somehow she knows when I pick up and try to video it. Adorable in her bouncy stubbornness and yammering up a storm. She is the rock to my roll.
Thankful to remain cancer free. Thankful to have this sweet snarling baby.
She's so strange, it's awesome. What would one expect from a baby Misfit anyway?