Alive

                                            -Chapter 4-

        My mother was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer on January 4th, 2010. I remember the prior Thanksgiving was spent at my grandparents house in Idaho and my mom wasn't feeling very well. Every doctor that she saw simply thought she had a bad infection. She was prone to getting bursitis in her right shoulder and would have to get a steroid injection every couple of years to help with the pain. The doctors thought that may be the cause. But after a couple injections, weeks of different antibiotics, we were clueless. I remember sitting in a doctors appointment with my mom and me, being a naive 13 year old girl, bluntly asked the doctor, "Have you checked to see if my mom has cancer or some sort of disease? Because she's the toughest girl I know and she is in A LOT  of pain". He simply rolled his eyes at me and told me he ruled out cancer months before and that he was the doctor, he knew best. Okay doc, whatever you say! Later on in the appointment I heard him mumbling something about me being such a negative little girl and how I should learn to keep my mouth shut. I felt embarrassed, I was just trying to think of ideas that could help my mom feel better! I went home and texted my boyfriend at the time and told him what had happened. He basically told me the same thing, "don't be so negative". 

FINE I GET IT. I'M A PESSIMIST.

        I will never forget the day that my mother told me about the cancer. She was sitting 15 feet away in the living room watching TV, Oprah probably, and I was in the kitchen sitting at the bar eating a sandwich before I had ballet. Earlier that day she had undergone a biopsy on one of her lymph nodes in her arm to see if there was an infection, and if so, what exactly we were dealing with. I had been fasting for breakfast and lunch for my moms small surgery to go over well so as soon as I broke my fast I quickly turned to her and anxiously asked what the results said on the biopsy. I distinctly remember asking how she was feeling, if she needed anything, and if I could give her a foot rub before I pinned my hair up for dance. She turned and smiled at me and casually, as if she had rehearsed this phrase all of her life she answered, "I'm feeling fine. You know I would always love a foot rub! We did get the results back today... And I have cancer. But everything is going to be just fine. Now go put on your leo and pin your hair quickly". I looked at my moms smiling face and felt nothing but peace and calm. That was the end of the conversation. I didn't ask any questions because honestly, I didn't want to know the answers. But that didn't stop everyone and anyone from asking me unbearable questions that a 13 year old girl should never have to answer.
                                                                Such as:

• "I heard your mom has cancer! I'm sorry. Is she going to die?"
• "So like what happens when your mom dies? Do you just become the mom or are you gonna have a step mom?" 
• "What stage of cancer is it?.... Oh.... that's not good.... she'll probably die soon"
• "Are you scared? Well, you have to be strong. Don't let anyone see you cry. That just shows weakness."
• "Is your mom just gonna give up?
• "How many months does your mom have to live?"
• "I'm so sorry about your loss"

        You know when you go out on a shopping spree;  you slide that shiny piece of plastic over and over and over in a few hours time. Next thing you know you get home and a pit in your stomach has formed. Knowing that you probably just spent wayyyy too much money, you simply decide it's best to just not check your bank account. Why? Because in the brilliant mind of Bailee, if you don't know the truth, then it isn't real yet. You don't have to live in that reality yet. So that's exactly what I did. My mom gave me very little knowledge about the disease and treatments and I asked even fewer questions. The less I knew, the better. She thought she was protecting me. Looking back, I wish I would have asked the questions that burned in my mind and I wish my mom and the doctors would have been honest and eased the anxiety that lurked from my chest to my fingertips. From my perspective, I believed without a shadow of a doubt that my mom was going to live. Or in her words, "everything is going to be alright".         
        My mom taught me how to be strong. She taught me to be an independent woman and to be brave. So that's exactly what I did. If she, the one with the deadly disease was continuing to live her life without ever shedding a tear, then I would do the same. Of course, whenever the hot shower water would hit my face and trickle down my slender back, my tears would trace the same pattern. My mom also taught me to cry when nobody was watching. So in return, I would sometimes take multiple showers a day. I would go with my mom to all of her doctors appointments, treatments, therapy, and everything in-between. A lot of the time my dad was working so I loved being her support system. Zac was a little too young to understand the importance of supporting our mother so we were lucky enough to have amazing family friends and ward friends that would allow him to come over and spend the day while mom and I were up at Huntsman.         
        Many rounds of chemotherapy, radiation, 7 major surgeries, and 5 total months my mom was diagnosed as "cancer free". It was  amazing to hear. They told me my mom wasn't going to die. Like my mom always said, "everything is going to be alright". During summer of 2010 my mom went through so many surgeries. A double mastectomy, full hysterectomy, port removals, and multiple revision surgeries due to infection. She was exhausted all summer due to the numerous medications and backlash from the treatments. I spent that summer with my mom. Laying in her bed, watching tv, reading books, going through magazines, and talking about everything under the sun. I am so grateful I was able to spend that last summer with my mom. It was a great summer, and I should have been happy. My mom was in remission! She was slowly becoming herself again. So why did I continue to drift into darkness and slip further into my depression? I simply thought it was all too good to be true. There was no way Heavenly Father was going to let me get out of this so easily. And day by day that little thought grew stronger and stronger in my mind. Suicidal thoughts began to creep into my mind and my dreams. I never acted upon them, but I thought about it. Daily. I started turning to other coping methods. I began to cut myself and listen to depressing "teenage emo rock" Using my brothers pocket knife I would slice small slits into my arms and my hands. Never big enough to cause anyone to think something was different, but deep enough to send my red blood pooling to the surface. I didn't feel pain. Trying to psychoanalyze the past, I can't determine if I was attention seeking, or if I actually had a mental illness. Probably a bit of both. I would lay in bed all day and just watch my mom as she slept. I would go to dance rehearsal from 4-10, come home, shower, and lay in bed with mom again. If my dad was home I would sleep on the couch. I didn't want to be too far away from my mom. But if she was busy or needed space for some reason, then I just wanted to be alone. I noticed that my mom began to worry about me. I regret my actions now because I was the last thing she should have been worried about. I should have supported her like she always had done for me. I was selfish, I was young, I was hurt, I was confused. I have still yet to forgive myself.        
        My mom would call Jaycee and ask her to get me out of the house. Many times offering to give us money to go shopping or out to eat. It amazes me how completely selfless my mother was. How could I possibly be her daughter? She is everything in the world that is good, pure, and strong! I felt darkness and lifeless. She attracts the sun and the goodness in all people. And I, dark shadows and souls of destruction. Since I was a little girl she would sing "You Are My Sunshine" to me. But to this day, she will forever be, My Sunshine. She is light and I am darkness. But at the end of the day, she saw all of my light, and still loved all of my darkness. She is everything that I hope and wish to be as a mother.

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