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Oh, July… it seems you will always be a mixed bag for me, hopefully for a very long time.

See, the thing about being diagnosed with cancer while pregnant is that they can’t do any real imaging of your body until after you have the baby, what with the radiation and all (mutant babies are the LAST thing anyone wants to deal with when you are pregnant with cancer). So that means that you have to wait until you are no longer pregnant (i.e., baby is born) to see if/where the cancer has spread.

This also means that if you get yearly scans, like my oncologist has recommended, then your scan will always coincide with the approximate time your baby was born. Which means that one of the happiest anniversaries will always coincide with a one of the most nerve-wracking times of the year.

I had my first scan about 2 weeks after Emmie was born. At the time, I felt like I totally had this baby thing under control and I was doing SO much better than I had been right after giving birth. Which was probably technically true, since I no longer looked actively pregnant, but just looked like I had a super flabby stomach, but looking back, I now can hardly even believe how freaking NEW Emmie was and how new I was as a mom. Maybe it was because we knew we were going to get thrown into the fire very soon after she was born that we had none of the typical “first time parent” fears. We had bigger fish to fry, unfortunately.

Here’s a pro tip about getting scans right after having a baby: They will make you lie flat on a very narrow plank. You will have no stomach muscles. At all. It will be impossible to get yourself vertical without help (the typical tactic of rolling will not help). Do not be ashamed to ask the tech to help you up. When they complain about you not helping/being heavy/some other dumb comment, remind them of the fact that you have no stomach muscles and that you have a TEENY BABY. This will make them feel somewhat abashed, and you have done your job.

I have my PET scan tomorrow and Emmie’s birthday party/housewarming party on Sunday. This means that I am simultaneously trying not to think too much about what it would mean if I got anything less than good news on the scans, all while trying to plan the party and actually finish unpacking a few more of these boxes.

If you have any good thoughts laying around that you aren’t using for something, would you mind sending a few our way? To sweeten the pot…:

Emmie says, “Pretty please?”

“Thanks! You’re the best!”