Tuesday, November 30, 2004
now I'm into the Journal of Clinical Oncology, which has some positive things to say.
google anzwers on recurrence - full of useful links. I was thinking of hiring a med student to look up the literature on bc during/post pregnancy. maybe I could start with a google q.
looking at this answer, I'm even surer that I may have inherited this from my dad's mother, who died at ?68? of breast cancer. my uncle also had prostate cancer and the two may be related (the cancers, not the mother and son!). and if I have the gene, pg can be a higher risk. it's also interesting that it looks like a cancer may take several years to really develop to a detectable level. but this one came on fast, assuming my ob/gyn really did that check properly in January. who knows. all I can do is go on my diet and take my drugs.
some more research with leads on the pg question - it may even help (although overall survival rates are still depressing!)
looking at this answer, I'm even surer that I may have inherited this from my dad's mother, who died at ?68? of breast cancer. my uncle also had prostate cancer and the two may be related (the cancers, not the mother and son!). and if I have the gene, pg can be a higher risk. it's also interesting that it looks like a cancer may take several years to really develop to a detectable level. but this one came on fast, assuming my ob/gyn really did that check properly in January. who knows. all I can do is go on my diet and take my drugs.
some more research with leads on the pg question - it may even help (although overall survival rates are still depressing!)
still don't feel like transcribing, though the notebook is filling up. I will say that I am very annoyed with the anaesthetist, who was unavailable yesterday to OK my sedative and left me to panic and cry for several hours before surgery. when they did find her, she told them to give me sleeping pills (which don't work) instead of the nice happy pill. I eventually got it only an hour or so before my surgery around 3.30.
feeling more knocked over than last week. I guess it's been a straining time, mentally, physically, emotionally, and the actual trauma to my body is greater. and no, I haven't looked yet. I put my pj's on this morning without looking. I suppose I'll have to do it when I'm prepared, rather than risking a sudden glimpse. my breasts were small, but I liked them. now I have one and it will be up to a year before we do reconstruction.
the only good news - in what passes for good news at times like this - is that Friday's scans showed no visible cancers. I was so sure my sore back meant ovarian cancer, or more accurately, breast cancer in my ovaries. skin cancer is skin cancer, even when it gets into your kidneys, and so on. so each cancer has its own treatments which is why the fad diet I'm going on cuts out all dairy as a treatment for this kind of cancer only.
so there's a very, very slim chance I actually have no cancer at all left in my body. much more likely that there are microscopic cells that need to be cleaned up and suppressed, hence the chemo/radio/tamoxifen (oestrogen blocker) regime. hence my continued worry about the idea that post-pregnancy b.c. is harder to defeat - something to do with immune suppression. hence my extreme fear about whether it's safe to have another baby, if this stuff is lurking. being pg could trigger it, and not even just "sooner" - at all, as my body might be able to defeat a few cells, whereas when I was pg, I'd be off the treatments and technically weakened. not having another baby would be the logical decision.
this hospital is also a major maternity hospital, and every now and again there's an announcement to get staff to labour ward/theatre. and the lobby is full of tiny babies. of course I still have a baby, though he's nearly a toddler. I am not ungrateful for that, or for the lack of detectable spread. now I need time, space and courage.
feeling more knocked over than last week. I guess it's been a straining time, mentally, physically, emotionally, and the actual trauma to my body is greater. and no, I haven't looked yet. I put my pj's on this morning without looking. I suppose I'll have to do it when I'm prepared, rather than risking a sudden glimpse. my breasts were small, but I liked them. now I have one and it will be up to a year before we do reconstruction.
the only good news - in what passes for good news at times like this - is that Friday's scans showed no visible cancers. I was so sure my sore back meant ovarian cancer, or more accurately, breast cancer in my ovaries. skin cancer is skin cancer, even when it gets into your kidneys, and so on. so each cancer has its own treatments which is why the fad diet I'm going on cuts out all dairy as a treatment for this kind of cancer only.
so there's a very, very slim chance I actually have no cancer at all left in my body. much more likely that there are microscopic cells that need to be cleaned up and suppressed, hence the chemo/radio/tamoxifen (oestrogen blocker) regime. hence my continued worry about the idea that post-pregnancy b.c. is harder to defeat - something to do with immune suppression. hence my extreme fear about whether it's safe to have another baby, if this stuff is lurking. being pg could trigger it, and not even just "sooner" - at all, as my body might be able to defeat a few cells, whereas when I was pg, I'd be off the treatments and technically weakened. not having another baby would be the logical decision.
this hospital is also a major maternity hospital, and every now and again there's an announcement to get staff to labour ward/theatre. and the lobby is full of tiny babies. of course I still have a baby, though he's nearly a toddler. I am not ungrateful for that, or for the lack of detectable spread. now I need time, space and courage.
Sunday, November 28, 2004
prolactin - another suspect, and part and parcel of being pg and bf-ing.
yes I should be asleep. but would I anyway?
yes I should be asleep. but would I anyway?
or maybe I'll just wait out the five years and be a Really Old Second Time Mum. it's not a crime, is it? 43 isn't freak territory, just unusual.
a board to look at
a board to look at
or maybe I'll just wait out the five years and be a Really Old Second Time Mum. it's not a crime, is it? 43 isn't freak territory, just unusual.
a board to look at
a board to look at
or maybe I'll just wait out the five years and be a Really Old Second Time Mum. it's not a crime, is it? 43 isn't freak territory, just unusual.
anti-soy information. it's all so confusing. if I give up dairy and soy, I'll have trouble eating any normal food at all, not to mention getting calcium. I need a good nutritionist or something.
and one day I hope to return this blog to baby issues, really. like toilet training, yeah, that sounds fun.
today he was imitating sounds perfectly - mum-mum, da-da, even "b" for our dog.
and one day I hope to return this blog to baby issues, really. like toilet training, yeah, that sounds fun.
today he was imitating sounds perfectly - mum-mum, da-da, even "b" for our dog.
had my first unhelpful set of questions from an old friend today. I never see her any more - she lives o/s - but on hearing the news she emailed me saying "do you have cancer in your family? what's your diet?", etc.
I am simply not replying.
can't believe that this time tomorrow I will not have my right breast.
can't believe the figures I'm reading in my b.c. book, either.
things are not looking great on the second baby front as well. dh does have a say, after all.
surely it can only get better from here? (yes, I know only too well it doesn't necessarily follow. and that once one bad thing has happened, it's difficult to pretend others won't happen too.)
the baby is happy, well fed and healthy. and he loves me as much as ever. tonight I gave him a big hug, just held him and breathed his smell. it tickled his ear and he laughed.
I am simply not replying.
can't believe that this time tomorrow I will not have my right breast.
can't believe the figures I'm reading in my b.c. book, either.
things are not looking great on the second baby front as well. dh does have a say, after all.
surely it can only get better from here? (yes, I know only too well it doesn't necessarily follow. and that once one bad thing has happened, it's difficult to pretend others won't happen too.)
the baby is happy, well fed and healthy. and he loves me as much as ever. tonight I gave him a big hug, just held him and breathed his smell. it tickled his ear and he laughed.
Saturday, November 27, 2004
positive things: dh is getting closer to A, and learning more about him.
and my blog page views are up a bit.
that's about it, really...
(no, that's too cynical. I'm also getting heaps of love and support not only from my friends but from women I don't know at all who read this. and once this is over, as my affirmations say, the second half of my life will be calmer, happier, healthier and more worthwhile than the first.)
and my blog page views are up a bit.
that's about it, really...
(no, that's too cynical. I'm also getting heaps of love and support not only from my friends but from women I don't know at all who read this. and once this is over, as my affirmations say, the second half of my life will be calmer, happier, healthier and more worthwhile than the first.)
while the baby and dh are asleep I'm going to bang some thoughts from my notebook into here. forgive me if they're a bit woolly.
yesterday was the day of tests - liver ultrasound, CT scan (with a really odd injection) and bone scan (I am Radioactive Mummy now). no results until next week and I'm trying not to think about the "usual metastatic screening", as my dr termed it on the order form. Thank God for Medicare, anyway - it cost well over $1100, but we'll end up only paying <$200.
or... I might leave the transposing until I'm sitting around in hospital with nothing better to do. we're trying for a "normal" weekend - I took A. down to the shops and library and stocked up on supplied while dh helped the ex-housesitter remove his stuff this morning. it wore me out a bit, and on the way back ran into someone I'm friendly with (she has the same kind of dog as we do) and guess what? she's 8 weeks pregnant. but it's her first and she's one of those it-just-happened types. so how could I resent it?
...baby awake
yesterday was the day of tests - liver ultrasound, CT scan (with a really odd injection) and bone scan (I am Radioactive Mummy now). no results until next week and I'm trying not to think about the "usual metastatic screening", as my dr termed it on the order form. Thank God for Medicare, anyway - it cost well over $1100, but we'll end up only paying <$200.
or... I might leave the transposing until I'm sitting around in hospital with nothing better to do. we're trying for a "normal" weekend - I took A. down to the shops and library and stocked up on supplied while dh helped the ex-housesitter remove his stuff this morning. it wore me out a bit, and on the way back ran into someone I'm friendly with (she has the same kind of dog as we do) and guess what? she's 8 weeks pregnant. but it's her first and she's one of those it-just-happened types. so how could I resent it?
...baby awake
Thursday, November 25, 2004
so many things happening, including my mother staying here and mil coming over tonight, and bulletin boards and email. so I'm blogging on hard copy and will write up the thoughts when I have time - maybe next week while I'm awaiting surgery #2.
four tumors in all, blurry edges, 4/11 nodes involved.
mastectomy, chemo, radio, hormonal therapy are all in my future. how's that for a horoscope. the dr wouldn't meet my eyes when she sat down. then she said "I wish I had better news" and my world imploded.
there are no words to describe how stuffed this is. but it's a lovely day. and we have mothers' group in 25 minutes.
and I can only hope now that I'll be on the right side of the roughly even numbers of women who survive from here.
four tumors in all, blurry edges, 4/11 nodes involved.
mastectomy, chemo, radio, hormonal therapy are all in my future. how's that for a horoscope. the dr wouldn't meet my eyes when she sat down. then she said "I wish I had better news" and my world imploded.
there are no words to describe how stuffed this is. but it's a lovely day. and we have mothers' group in 25 minutes.
and I can only hope now that I'll be on the right side of the roughly even numbers of women who survive from here.
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
"INFERTILITY TREATMENT ACT 1995 - SECT 60
Surrogacy-advertising
60. Surrogacy-advertising
A person must not publish or cause to be published a statement, advertisement,
notice or document-
(a) to the effect that a person is or may be willing to enter into a
surrogacy agreement; or
(b) to the effect that a person is seeking another person who is or may be
willing to enter into a surrogacy agreement or to act as a surrogate
mother or to arrange a surrogacy agreement; or
(c) to the effect that a person is or may be willing to arrange a
surrogacy agreement; or
(d) to the effect that a person is or may be willing to accept any benefit
under a surrogacy agreement, whether for himself or herself or for
another person; or
(e) that is intended or likely to counsel or procure a person to agree to
act as a surrogate mother; or
(f) to the effect that a person is or may be willing to act as a surrogate
mother.
Penalty: 240 penalty units or 2 years imprisonment or both."
so if I even said I'd like a surrogate, I could be sent to jail.
Surrogacy-advertising
60. Surrogacy-advertising
A person must not publish or cause to be published a statement, advertisement,
notice or document-
(a) to the effect that a person is or may be willing to enter into a
surrogacy agreement; or
(b) to the effect that a person is seeking another person who is or may be
willing to enter into a surrogacy agreement or to act as a surrogate
mother or to arrange a surrogacy agreement; or
(c) to the effect that a person is or may be willing to arrange a
surrogacy agreement; or
(d) to the effect that a person is or may be willing to accept any benefit
under a surrogacy agreement, whether for himself or herself or for
another person; or
(e) that is intended or likely to counsel or procure a person to agree to
act as a surrogate mother; or
(f) to the effect that a person is or may be willing to act as a surrogate
mother.
Penalty: 240 penalty units or 2 years imprisonment or both."
so if I even said I'd like a surrogate, I could be sent to jail.
baby been and gone. doctor will be here in about 75 minutes with my sentence prognosis.
it'll be OK. it'll be OK.
I am considering shutting up about surrogacy options. I'm sure you'll understand why, if I do. ;) many of my readers are from Australia, and possibly my home town as well.
it'll be OK. it'll be OK.
I am considering shutting up about surrogacy options. I'm sure you'll understand why, if I do. ;) many of my readers are from Australia, and possibly my home town as well.
did some research on local surrogate laws last night, and they suck.
surrogacy is illegal, even altruistically. embryos can only be transferred to infertile women, so even if we wanted to cheat somehow, we'd need a married woman who is infertile and has had enough children already. and her name would still go on the birth certificate. and we would have trouble adopting the baby. and so on. maybe this would be easier if we didn't have those eight embies, but we do, and my second child is in there. so really the only workable option is to risk death from cancer by carrying them myself. or try to get the law changed. or find a cheat, a workaround.
meanwhile, waht's happend to the unlikely rn? I guess someone in power saw her blog, fine as it was. it's gone. pity, I liked her.
and another detailed paper on surrogacy in Australia.
maybe I need this woman's lawyer. and dr.
surrogacy is illegal, even altruistically. embryos can only be transferred to infertile women, so even if we wanted to cheat somehow, we'd need a married woman who is infertile and has had enough children already. and her name would still go on the birth certificate. and we would have trouble adopting the baby. and so on. maybe this would be easier if we didn't have those eight embies, but we do, and my second child is in there. so really the only workable option is to risk death from cancer by carrying them myself. or try to get the law changed. or find a cheat, a workaround.
meanwhile, waht's happend to the unlikely rn? I guess someone in power saw her blog, fine as it was. it's gone. pity, I liked her.
and another detailed paper on surrogacy in Australia.
maybe I need this woman's lawyer. and dr.
feeling angry, upset, hurt, helpless.
why?
a little after 10, dh rang. said "I thought we might come in" like he's doing me a favour, offering me a gift.
turns out A has been awake since 8.30. so in his normal schedule he'd need a midmorning nap. so why hasn't he come in to see me earlier, especially as he has to go home again so we can talk to the dr, get our news today?
because dh "had to have breakfast". An hour and a half! and instead of doing the right thing and saying "don't bring him, give him a nap", I'm letting them come in because I want my baby so badly. and I'm upset that I"m in this room while other people get to stuff up his routine, and I can see the future if this goes badly - more of this, as my baby gets taken further and further from me.
it didn't help that my book features death row in detail towards the end.
why?
a little after 10, dh rang. said "I thought we might come in" like he's doing me a favour, offering me a gift.
turns out A has been awake since 8.30. so in his normal schedule he'd need a midmorning nap. so why hasn't he come in to see me earlier, especially as he has to go home again so we can talk to the dr, get our news today?
because dh "had to have breakfast". An hour and a half! and instead of doing the right thing and saying "don't bring him, give him a nap", I'm letting them come in because I want my baby so badly. and I'm upset that I"m in this room while other people get to stuff up his routine, and I can see the future if this goes badly - more of this, as my baby gets taken further and further from me.
it didn't help that my book features death row in detail towards the end.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
got through this day OK. it was a little strange seeing the baby as a "visitor" instead of my little responsibility. I made sure I fed him dinner tonight, though. he, dh, Dad and I went across to the park and we watched him crawl around on the grass in the sunshine. which is the sort of thing I wanted to come back to Melbourne for. just not like this.
we get our news tomorrow. hopefully not The Information, as Amis puts it.
the more I read and think, the less likely it is that I'll be able to safely carry another baby. I was so confident that it worried me. and rightly so, it seems. a gestational surrogate is a possibility, I suppose, but I haven't even broached it with dh yet, and the laws here are funny about that kind of thing - if I could find such a woman.
someone on a bulletin board I was on said she and her dh had decided that her baby needed its Mom more than they needed another child. which is what it comes down to, if there's a real risk that being pg could resurrect this thing that I'm telling myself I've cleared from my body.
we get our news tomorrow. hopefully not The Information, as Amis puts it.
the more I read and think, the less likely it is that I'll be able to safely carry another baby. I was so confident that it worried me. and rightly so, it seems. a gestational surrogate is a possibility, I suppose, but I haven't even broached it with dh yet, and the laws here are funny about that kind of thing - if I could find such a woman.
someone on a bulletin board I was on said she and her dh had decided that her baby needed its Mom more than they needed another child. which is what it comes down to, if there's a real risk that being pg could resurrect this thing that I'm telling myself I've cleared from my body.
well, apart from having to wear revolting paper underwear, having to wait an hour in pre-op (luckily I insisted on bringing my book), and the quality (not) of the food, things are going as well as can be expected.
that is, there is still a chance Miss N (my surgeon, who has in fact been married 25 years tomorrow) got all the cancer out, and there is still a chance it's not in my lymph nodes. we find out tomorrow.
I have a nice view in a very quiet hospital, A., dh and my Dad were in to visit this morning and will come again this afternoon, my breast isn't as mauled as I thought it might be (just smaller and firmer, not misshapen) and hope springs eternal.
wrote out some affirmations yesterday while I was cooped up in this room waiting for surgery; they'll come online later.
maybe I need a new "books read" title: Books read while conquering cancer. which will go for the rest of my life, and be a very long list indeed.
that is, there is still a chance Miss N (my surgeon, who has in fact been married 25 years tomorrow) got all the cancer out, and there is still a chance it's not in my lymph nodes. we find out tomorrow.
I have a nice view in a very quiet hospital, A., dh and my Dad were in to visit this morning and will come again this afternoon, my breast isn't as mauled as I thought it might be (just smaller and firmer, not misshapen) and hope springs eternal.
wrote out some affirmations yesterday while I was cooped up in this room waiting for surgery; they'll come online later.
maybe I need a new "books read" title: Books read while conquering cancer. which will go for the rest of my life, and be a very long list indeed.
Monday, November 22, 2004
surgery day. parents here, so can't blog long. don't have much to say anyway.
feeling pessimistic, with moments of hope. it will take a few days for all the news to trickle in.
I love that baby so much. no one else can do for him what I do. I have to get through this.
feeling pessimistic, with moments of hope. it will take a few days for all the news to trickle in.
I love that baby so much. no one else can do for him what I do. I have to get through this.
Saturday, November 20, 2004
something else on pg
(kinda busy right now setting up for going to hosp, caring for baby, reading up on therapies)
(kinda busy right now setting up for going to hosp, caring for baby, reading up on therapies)
I've bought this woman's book.
fortunately my surgery is in fact in the second half of my cycle. pure coincidence of course.
also reading the no-dairy diet book. not sure if it will work for me, but I have a strong feeling that diet is a major factor. the pregnancy thing worries me a lot. I'd like to know that my treatment is specific to the kind of cancer I have.
fortunately my surgery is in fact in the second half of my cycle. pure coincidence of course.
also reading the no-dairy diet book. not sure if it will work for me, but I have a strong feeling that diet is a major factor. the pregnancy thing worries me a lot. I'd like to know that my treatment is specific to the kind of cancer I have.
Friday, November 19, 2004
3-5% of all breast cancers are found in pregnant or lactating women.
A, if you ever read this: it's not your fault. I feel so angry that I didn't get this checked sooner. but I suspect I would have got this anyway. you are you, you happened because I wanted you and this is, as they say, "just one of those things". I'm the one who should be sorry, if I'm not here for you now. and I love you.
A, if you ever read this: it's not your fault. I feel so angry that I didn't get this checked sooner. but I suspect I would have got this anyway. you are you, you happened because I wanted you and this is, as they say, "just one of those things". I'm the one who should be sorry, if I'm not here for you now. and I love you.
Australian paper on pregnancy-related breast cancers
something I wrote in a writing class seven or eight years ago...
By “nurse”, I mean not only women hired to suckle other people’s infants but also those who suckle their own. The following are the ailments with which nurses are most afflicted: gradual wasting, hysterics, pustules and scabies, headache, vertigo, respiratory troubles, and weak eyesight, and they are liable to many other disorders, especially in the breast when milk is so abundant, when it curdles in the breasts, when these become inflamed or suffer from an abscess or cracks in the nipples. I tis easy to understand how atrophy and wasting may result from long-continued suckling ( Facile esta autem cincipere, quomodoex diurturna lactatione sequator atrophia and contabescentia) … (From Diseases of Workers)
As an adolescent, the first sign I had that I was really a woman was when my nipples began to swell and ache, like miniature breasts in themselves and I realised that the real thing would fill out behind them I didn’t like the idea; it was summer and the imposition of a new, restrictive piece of clothing for the rest of my life seemed most unfair, even faintly sexist when I observed the cool, bare torsos of the boys.
While my breasts grew, I felt as self-conscious as if I was naked; for a while my recurring dreams were of walking down the street in my hometown and suddenly discovering I was in fact naked.
With the breasts came all the other manifestations of femaleness, like a sign around my neck - “Open for Business” - and men responded with wolf-whistles and cat calls and gropes, a wave of lust and desire continually washing over me. Sometimes it knocked me over.
He wrote to me: “For the six months we fucked, not a day went past that I was not grateful to have access to your breast, your warm, resiliently fleshy, bury-your face-in breasts. And I never once felt unwelcome there.”
I remembered aching breasts and a rash across my chest caused by his unshaven chin.
I could not feed my children. Before the births, my breasts rounded and leaked in anticipation, but almost immediately afterwards they dried up and refused to function. Instead of curling up in bed in the cold winter with my baby on my breast, I would have to leap out of bed and boil bottles, heat formula, while my sons fretted and howled alone in a cot.
Useless as nipples on a man: an insult, one that encapsulated for me the real advantage of the female form - in a non-combative, white-collar world, brawn and bulk was useless and even a little old-fashioned, while a woman might still be connected to her animal being by the mere fact of having nipples.
But I found that my femaleness was as flawed and wished instead for brawn and bulk. Feeding or not, I lost weight at the rate of about a kilogram a week, for three months each time, forgetting to eat as I lost track of sunrise and sunset, surrounded by nappies and bottles and creams and the constant sound of a hungry baby.
When John was six and having trouble reading, my doctor - my female doctor - asked me why I hadn’t breast fed him. “You must know that there’s a measurable correlation between breastfeeding and IQ,” she said. I stepped up my after-school tutoring to an hour and a half. I was working 60 hours a week, two jobs, to feed them, and I was still a bad mother.
In court, the defence barrister inquired as to my bra size, and the size of my uniform, and the colour of my bra under that white uniform, for all the world like a heavy breather on the telephone. I stood in the witness box with my breasts demurely covered under my black jacket, as they’d been the night the line supervisor raped me.
That night, for the first and only time, I struck my child. Rohan cried for a week, late at night when he thought I couldn’t hear him.
It’s not that I didn’t want another man. There just never seemed to be time, and as tired morning followed exhausted night, it took me a while to realise that the face in the mirror wasn’t just suffering from lack of sleep, or a bad cold, or not enough sunlight. I was just getting old.
Mr Andrews pulled the cap off a black texta marker and leaned over me. “I can move these” - he circled my nipples - “to here. And this” - a line below my 41-year-old breast - “up to here.” In my handbag beside the consulting room table, a nude photograph of Charlotte Rampling was folded inside an envelope with the referring letter from my GP. I must have been mad. And now that this has happened, I can’t stop thinking “I could have taken the kids to Disneyland, or Europe with that money, or bought them new bikes.” Or something to remember me by.
The weirdest thing is that it’s so small, not at all dramatic. Wouldn’t you expect a hooded bloke with a scythe, or at least a thunderclap? My end began with a small, hard lump like a piece of gravel in your shoe, something you shake out and keep walking. So small that if I hadn’t been such a goody-two-shoes with my regular breast checks, I sometimes wonder if it mightn’t have gone away by itself.
Denial. Anger. Acceptance. I’m still looking for acceptance, and will be until the day I die. It won’t be long now.
By “nurse”, I mean not only women hired to suckle other people’s infants but also those who suckle their own. The following are the ailments with which nurses are most afflicted: gradual wasting, hysterics, pustules and scabies, headache, vertigo, respiratory troubles, and weak eyesight, and they are liable to many other disorders, especially in the breast when milk is so abundant, when it curdles in the breasts, when these become inflamed or suffer from an abscess or cracks in the nipples. I tis easy to understand how atrophy and wasting may result from long-continued suckling ( Facile esta autem cincipere, quomodoex diurturna lactatione sequator atrophia and contabescentia) … (From Diseases of Workers)
As an adolescent, the first sign I had that I was really a woman was when my nipples began to swell and ache, like miniature breasts in themselves and I realised that the real thing would fill out behind them I didn’t like the idea; it was summer and the imposition of a new, restrictive piece of clothing for the rest of my life seemed most unfair, even faintly sexist when I observed the cool, bare torsos of the boys.
While my breasts grew, I felt as self-conscious as if I was naked; for a while my recurring dreams were of walking down the street in my hometown and suddenly discovering I was in fact naked.
With the breasts came all the other manifestations of femaleness, like a sign around my neck - “Open for Business” - and men responded with wolf-whistles and cat calls and gropes, a wave of lust and desire continually washing over me. Sometimes it knocked me over.
He wrote to me: “For the six months we fucked, not a day went past that I was not grateful to have access to your breast, your warm, resiliently fleshy, bury-your face-in breasts. And I never once felt unwelcome there.”
I remembered aching breasts and a rash across my chest caused by his unshaven chin.
I could not feed my children. Before the births, my breasts rounded and leaked in anticipation, but almost immediately afterwards they dried up and refused to function. Instead of curling up in bed in the cold winter with my baby on my breast, I would have to leap out of bed and boil bottles, heat formula, while my sons fretted and howled alone in a cot.
Useless as nipples on a man: an insult, one that encapsulated for me the real advantage of the female form - in a non-combative, white-collar world, brawn and bulk was useless and even a little old-fashioned, while a woman might still be connected to her animal being by the mere fact of having nipples.
But I found that my femaleness was as flawed and wished instead for brawn and bulk. Feeding or not, I lost weight at the rate of about a kilogram a week, for three months each time, forgetting to eat as I lost track of sunrise and sunset, surrounded by nappies and bottles and creams and the constant sound of a hungry baby.
When John was six and having trouble reading, my doctor - my female doctor - asked me why I hadn’t breast fed him. “You must know that there’s a measurable correlation between breastfeeding and IQ,” she said. I stepped up my after-school tutoring to an hour and a half. I was working 60 hours a week, two jobs, to feed them, and I was still a bad mother.
In court, the defence barrister inquired as to my bra size, and the size of my uniform, and the colour of my bra under that white uniform, for all the world like a heavy breather on the telephone. I stood in the witness box with my breasts demurely covered under my black jacket, as they’d been the night the line supervisor raped me.
That night, for the first and only time, I struck my child. Rohan cried for a week, late at night when he thought I couldn’t hear him.
It’s not that I didn’t want another man. There just never seemed to be time, and as tired morning followed exhausted night, it took me a while to realise that the face in the mirror wasn’t just suffering from lack of sleep, or a bad cold, or not enough sunlight. I was just getting old.
Mr Andrews pulled the cap off a black texta marker and leaned over me. “I can move these” - he circled my nipples - “to here. And this” - a line below my 41-year-old breast - “up to here.” In my handbag beside the consulting room table, a nude photograph of Charlotte Rampling was folded inside an envelope with the referring letter from my GP. I must have been mad. And now that this has happened, I can’t stop thinking “I could have taken the kids to Disneyland, or Europe with that money, or bought them new bikes.” Or something to remember me by.
The weirdest thing is that it’s so small, not at all dramatic. Wouldn’t you expect a hooded bloke with a scythe, or at least a thunderclap? My end began with a small, hard lump like a piece of gravel in your shoe, something you shake out and keep walking. So small that if I hadn’t been such a goody-two-shoes with my regular breast checks, I sometimes wonder if it mightn’t have gone away by itself.
Denial. Anger. Acceptance. I’m still looking for acceptance, and will be until the day I die. It won’t be long now.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
don't tell anyone. I fed him today. It looks like I'll have to take the bad pills either way, my breasts were full, and I just wanted to. so, pill in the morning. somehow, it feels better now, more like closure.
thanks, Kerry. every good thought helps. but what's with this "not really a baby any more" listing? I'm hanging on to his babyness until he's walking. :)
ps: I have to confess, I am not the Grrl she mentions in the same post and accidentally points to me. Getupgrrl, she of the sassy Brooklyn attitude, to whom nothing bad has happened yet (so to speak), is here.
ps: I have to confess, I am not the Grrl she mentions in the same post and accidentally points to me. Getupgrrl, she of the sassy Brooklyn attitude, to whom nothing bad has happened yet (so to speak), is here.
weaning report - he doesn't like it, but he doesn't know why exactly. dh tries to give him formula, he screams, then I give him a cuddle and he goes to bed. all very confusing,no doubt.
44 hours after the last feed, my breasts are full but not painfully so. I'm trying to find out if I really must take the drying-up pill, which brings on instant menopause. after all, I'm not ready to blue-rinse my hair and take up bowls yet. ;)
but it hurts. the not being able to give him what he wants hurts. I liked feeding him, very much. and the crying he's doing foreshadows for me the crying he might do if I don't get through this.
44 hours after the last feed, my breasts are full but not painfully so. I'm trying to find out if I really must take the drying-up pill, which brings on instant menopause. after all, I'm not ready to blue-rinse my hair and take up bowls yet. ;)
but it hurts. the not being able to give him what he wants hurts. I liked feeding him, very much. and the crying he's doing foreshadows for me the crying he might do if I don't get through this.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
some research backs my suspicion that so much soymilk may have been bad for me.
lymphodema sites - for when I have no lymph glands in my right arm. www.lymphnet.org and www.lymphnotes.com
I am such a bitch. I am starting to look at people who annoy me and think "why do you get to live?". and at people who are around my baby and resenting that they will have him, not me.
bad moments. very bad.
bad moments. very bad.
the younger you get cancer, the more likely it is to kill you. man, this is a fun read.
node negative survival at ten years - 90 %. node positive - 55 %.
subsequent pregnancies will have a greater chance of loss. I'm going for a walk with my baby boy now...
fuck. that report also says that cancers found soon after pregnancy have poorer survivability-thing. ouch. depending of course, what "soon after" means. it was there four months ago though. I guess that's soon.
this really should be a whole new blog. but anyway. this page explains how pg actually increases the risk shortly afterwards, and has references to an interesting gene which would mean (if I had it) that each pg increases the risk.
my main interest right now is how to fight down this 2-year wait thing. if I have a mastectomy, what is the chance of recurrence? and will being pg actually make that much worse?
my main interest right now is how to fight down this 2-year wait thing. if I have a mastectomy, what is the chance of recurrence? and will being pg actually make that much worse?
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
a few things from my manic racing mind - yes, actually, I wish it were you, not me, dear reader. just as deep in your heart you're glad it's me and not you. I don't have Munchausen's Syndrome, I don't enjoy the attention illness is getting me, I don't want to be a freak, part of a circus, the one woman in 100 or in 50 or whatever it is who gets this before 40, the one people are talking about.
re: my doctor, whose honorific is "Miss". I am warming to her. I appreciate the way she came into the room on Friday, looked me in the eye and said "it is cancer."
now that I'm about to be operated on, I'm looking at breasts. and if you think avoiding pg bellies and babies is hard for ttc women, try avoiding breasts. they're everywhere. and they're lovely, juggly, multi-shaped things. and I will miss mine. I so hope we'll get away with the largish lumpectomy.
spoke to ob/gyn. he says he checked at the six week mark. so he either missed it, or it's grown from zero to 1x2x3cm in 10 months.
and a small joke with myself, that I might get a tattoo with one of those recycle symbols on it. reincarnation? good use of an otherwise fine body? but I'm not going to die. not of this. not now.
finally, A. had his last feed today, and my right breast did its last useful thing ever. and it makes me very, very sad.
each of these things deserves a long blog to bring out all the thoughts I'm having. but I also have a house to run, a baby to care for, many draining phone calls to make to inform people what's going on (because we're suddenly not going to HK it's hard not to let on that something's happening. some people are being told the whole truth, others just that I have to go into hospital, and no further details offered.
Monday looms. much to do- baby schedules to write up, dh to train up, house to organise, case to pack, farewells to be said to my current body.
oh, and more awful news: saw the IVF dr today. there will be at least a two year wait between me being cleared - if I'm cleared - and there being any question of me being pg. at least. more if it's "hormone responsive" cancer. I'm 38 1/2 now. there's a high chance that the very likely chemo will knock out my ovaries for good. so it's those eight embies or nothing, and that when I'm 41 years old. I so want another baby. I want one close in age to A. but I can't have it. and first I must stay alive for him.
am I numb? maybe. I haven't cried much. I will go towards Monday with a terrible sense of inevitability. I am sane enough to recognise reality when I see it, as much as I'd like it to be a dream. wake me when it's over.
re: my doctor, whose honorific is "Miss". I am warming to her. I appreciate the way she came into the room on Friday, looked me in the eye and said "it is cancer."
now that I'm about to be operated on, I'm looking at breasts. and if you think avoiding pg bellies and babies is hard for ttc women, try avoiding breasts. they're everywhere. and they're lovely, juggly, multi-shaped things. and I will miss mine. I so hope we'll get away with the largish lumpectomy.
spoke to ob/gyn. he says he checked at the six week mark. so he either missed it, or it's grown from zero to 1x2x3cm in 10 months.
and a small joke with myself, that I might get a tattoo with one of those recycle symbols on it. reincarnation? good use of an otherwise fine body? but I'm not going to die. not of this. not now.
finally, A. had his last feed today, and my right breast did its last useful thing ever. and it makes me very, very sad.
each of these things deserves a long blog to bring out all the thoughts I'm having. but I also have a house to run, a baby to care for, many draining phone calls to make to inform people what's going on (because we're suddenly not going to HK it's hard not to let on that something's happening. some people are being told the whole truth, others just that I have to go into hospital, and no further details offered.
Monday looms. much to do- baby schedules to write up, dh to train up, house to organise, case to pack, farewells to be said to my current body.
oh, and more awful news: saw the IVF dr today. there will be at least a two year wait between me being cleared - if I'm cleared - and there being any question of me being pg. at least. more if it's "hormone responsive" cancer. I'm 38 1/2 now. there's a high chance that the very likely chemo will knock out my ovaries for good. so it's those eight embies or nothing, and that when I'm 41 years old. I so want another baby. I want one close in age to A. but I can't have it. and first I must stay alive for him.
am I numb? maybe. I haven't cried much. I will go towards Monday with a terrible sense of inevitability. I am sane enough to recognise reality when I see it, as much as I'd like it to be a dream. wake me when it's over.
Monday, November 15, 2004
I keep thinking of...the scene in Blade Runner where Rutger Hauer (sp?) talks about all the things he's seen and how it'll all die with him.
and of that guy who hacked off a foot or something to get free from a boulder that had trapped him, and crawled to safety. and I'm worried about a little modern surgery?
and of that guy who hacked off a foot or something to get free from a boulder that had trapped him, and crawled to safety. and I'm worried about a little modern surgery?
what do I say? I want to write about the party, all his friends and rellies around him, the cute babies, the BBQ, the toys, the amateurish dragon cake.
but all I can think about is that I first felt this lump four months ago, when we arrived in HK. and I didn't have a local dr. and it just faded into the background, didn't hurt, was probably a feeding thing...so I let possibly the most important four months of the course of this disease slip by.
if I was sure my glands were clear, I'd have the whole breast off. really. but they're inflamed and I may have to do chemo anyway. so I may as well try to conserve some of it - the healthy flesh, the nipple. we have an appt in 90 minutes to schedule surgery. and however you look at it, surgery of this kind, taking good flesh along with cancer to be sure of "margins" is deep, extreme violence.
but I have a baby. and I have to live.
rang my ob/gyn but haven't spoken to him. there would have been a check when I first went to him, don't know about the six-week checkup. just curious.
if it's hormone-responsive cancer, I have a better chance of survival. that is, by shutting down my hormonal functions (oestrogen) for several years. in which time I guess I can't have another baby. which should I hope for?
we have an IVF dr appt on Tuesday anyway. she specialises in IVF for cancer patients to preserve fertility. at least she knows the territory.
frightened.
but all I can think about is that I first felt this lump four months ago, when we arrived in HK. and I didn't have a local dr. and it just faded into the background, didn't hurt, was probably a feeding thing...so I let possibly the most important four months of the course of this disease slip by.
if I was sure my glands were clear, I'd have the whole breast off. really. but they're inflamed and I may have to do chemo anyway. so I may as well try to conserve some of it - the healthy flesh, the nipple. we have an appt in 90 minutes to schedule surgery. and however you look at it, surgery of this kind, taking good flesh along with cancer to be sure of "margins" is deep, extreme violence.
but I have a baby. and I have to live.
rang my ob/gyn but haven't spoken to him. there would have been a check when I first went to him, don't know about the six-week checkup. just curious.
if it's hormone-responsive cancer, I have a better chance of survival. that is, by shutting down my hormonal functions (oestrogen) for several years. in which time I guess I can't have another baby. which should I hope for?
we have an IVF dr appt on Tuesday anyway. she specialises in IVF for cancer patients to preserve fertility. at least she knows the territory.
frightened.
Sunday, November 14, 2004
so the house is all ready for the party - Chinese lanterns up, red and gold ribbons and balloons, an amateur dragon cake - and in passing, I put some sunscreen on the outdoor table for guests to use. I grab a blob for myself and laugh. why? because the purpose of using sunscreen is to prevent cancer.
what fun this is going to be. not. (the cancer, not the party. the party will be a HOOT).
what fun this is going to be. not. (the cancer, not the party. the party will be a HOOT).
Saturday, November 13, 2004
12/11/04
Dear Archbishop George Pell,
Today is my son's first birthday. This is a picture of him.
Today you published an article suggesting that IVF was in some way a threat to the correct form of democracy. It suggested that the way he was created was "a threat to the transcendent dignity of the human person."
Today I was also given a diagnosis of breast cancer. It's quite likely I will be in chemotherapy within weeks. If so, the frozen embryos resulting from my IVF treatment - a handful of four-celled blobs - will be my and my husband's only chance to give my son a brother or sister. I don't know, maybe you think that's selfish. I do know that my main motivation right now for surviving is my son's welfare.
I understand the church has problems with IVF technology, particularly the destruction of embryos. But while the world, even Australia, has actual babies dying of treatable diseases, malnutrition and neglect, not to mention many adults being tortured to death, repressed and abused in a million ways, don't you think your considerable power could be better directed than in trying to stop people like me having children?
Yrs etc,
.... I have a good mind to send this.
Dear Archbishop George Pell,
Today is my son's first birthday. This is a picture of him.
Today you published an article suggesting that IVF was in some way a threat to the correct form of democracy. It suggested that the way he was created was "a threat to the transcendent dignity of the human person."
Today I was also given a diagnosis of breast cancer. It's quite likely I will be in chemotherapy within weeks. If so, the frozen embryos resulting from my IVF treatment - a handful of four-celled blobs - will be my and my husband's only chance to give my son a brother or sister. I don't know, maybe you think that's selfish. I do know that my main motivation right now for surviving is my son's welfare.
I understand the church has problems with IVF technology, particularly the destruction of embryos. But while the world, even Australia, has actual babies dying of treatable diseases, malnutrition and neglect, not to mention many adults being tortured to death, repressed and abused in a million ways, don't you think your considerable power could be better directed than in trying to stop people like me having children?
Yrs etc,
.... I have a good mind to send this.
Friday, November 12, 2004
ps: if it's in my lymph glands, then it's chemotherapy. at which point my eight frozen embies are it, forever. they're so precious.
so I have cancer. grade 2 (moderate) either stage I or stage II, depending on whether it's in my lymph glands. the which will be determined when Miss N. (my surgeon) chops them and half or all of my right breast out and gets them dissected, let's see, would next Wednesday suit? the week after at the latest.
oh, and my baby is one today. and I am doing my damndest to make sure he has a nice day. but it ain't easy. no, it ain't easy today, Lord.
oh, and my baby is one today. and I am doing my damndest to make sure he has a nice day. but it ain't easy. no, it ain't easy today, Lord.
Thursday, November 11, 2004
I am seeing some very scary figures when I look up survival rates for someone with something that's the size this is (up to 3cm) that has spread to the lymph nodes (but has it?) I shouldn't have looked. now I have to try to sleep.
another appt in the morning to get biopsy results. today was a bad day.
tomorrow is my baby's first birthday.
another appt in the morning to get biopsy results. today was a bad day.
tomorrow is my baby's first birthday.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
The stage 1 "cut off" between favorable and unfavorable prognosis is a tumor size of 1 centimeter (½ inch).
now I'm really freaking out.
now I'm really freaking out.
possibly tmi for right now. better stop reading.
oh great. as if it wasn't bad enough finding out what a hysterosalpingogramthingy (huh?) was, now I have to learn words like lymphadenopathy mean.
the ultrasound came back with a cheerful note suggesting it is most likely cancer with one or two nodes, being 3x2x1 cm approximately. and I have an 8am appt with the head of the breast cancer clinic. felt a bit sooky when one friend declined to come, but have got a friend who's a doctor AND a lawyer AND a total sweetie to come and listen and baby-wrangle.
at the very least this is going to mean insertion of large nasty needles into my delicate breastfeeding breast for a biopsy. it's very likely there will be immediate whipping-out action on a large chunk of said breast. on the bright side, I may have to delay or cancel my return to Hong Kong. but there is no question of dying of cancer. I have a BABY to bring up, and another one to have next year.
did freak me out a bit when the gp gave me the "you got through IVF, this is your next challenge" pep talk, and when I realised I was being essentially handed over to the cancer clinic as a full-on case.
tonight it's a bath, a sleeping pill and prayers for a good sleep. I need some space. dh is abreast of developments (haha) and due back Friday morning. and we still have a birthday party to organise.
the ultrasound came back with a cheerful note suggesting it is most likely cancer with one or two nodes, being 3x2x1 cm approximately. and I have an 8am appt with the head of the breast cancer clinic. felt a bit sooky when one friend declined to come, but have got a friend who's a doctor AND a lawyer AND a total sweetie to come and listen and baby-wrangle.
at the very least this is going to mean insertion of large nasty needles into my delicate breastfeeding breast for a biopsy. it's very likely there will be immediate whipping-out action on a large chunk of said breast. on the bright side, I may have to delay or cancel my return to Hong Kong. but there is no question of dying of cancer. I have a BABY to bring up, and another one to have next year.
did freak me out a bit when the gp gave me the "you got through IVF, this is your next challenge" pep talk, and when I realised I was being essentially handed over to the cancer clinic as a full-on case.
tonight it's a bath, a sleeping pill and prayers for a good sleep. I need some space. dh is abreast of developments (haha) and due back Friday morning. and we still have a birthday party to organise.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
there'll be a gap in my "books read" that's unavoidable. I'm reading a book (nonfiction, crime, history) written by a close friend of mine, and I fear he'll Google himself and find my blog one day. not that he'd find anything negative about himself here. he's that kind of friend.
quick blog as a spate of phone calls ate up my evening quiet time (not that I was unhappy to have the chats), and I'm trying for another Big Sleep tonight (baby has Panadol again, teething miserably).
the worrying thing about the waiting room today was how healthy all the patients looked. some of them must be in there for cancer and similar - but they all looked well. I look well.
they skipped the mammogram - no point when the woman is lactating, apparently, it's all too hard to see anything - but did an u/s. of course the operator wouldn't tell me anything, nice as he was, so I have to wait until I see the dr tomorrow for results or instructions for more annoying, painful and invasive tests. what a drag.
dropped $100-plus on party decorations and coloured plastic plates today. planning salads, cake decorations, where to put the drinks. it's nearly time for his first birthday. yippee!
the worrying thing about the waiting room today was how healthy all the patients looked. some of them must be in there for cancer and similar - but they all looked well. I look well.
they skipped the mammogram - no point when the woman is lactating, apparently, it's all too hard to see anything - but did an u/s. of course the operator wouldn't tell me anything, nice as he was, so I have to wait until I see the dr tomorrow for results or instructions for more annoying, painful and invasive tests. what a drag.
dropped $100-plus on party decorations and coloured plastic plates today. planning salads, cake decorations, where to put the drinks. it's nearly time for his first birthday. yippee!
Monday, November 08, 2004
is repeated waking of my baby a fair reason to kill the neighbour's dog? I think so. especially when I really needed a 1/2 hour to get up from my attempted nap and think (meaning blog).
this morning's gp dr appt didn't go to script. first, she was half an hour late - possibly not her fault, but not helpful when babies only have so much waiting in them. then, after I got my paed. and IVF dr referrals, we did the quick check of this small lump in my breast. she was supposed to say "it's nothing, side effect of breastfeeding, go home you silly worrying female."
instead I have a mammogram and ultrasound tomorrow afternoon, another appt Wednesday to get the results (both of which will interfere with my and/or A's naps) and no guarantee there won't also be a needle biopsy before I head to HK 8 days from now. If I head home. if there are any real problems, I'm so staying here.
at least my Dad will be here tomorrow and can stay longer to cover the mammogram. not that I'll tell him that's what it is. boring, boring. this isn't allowed to be anything other than a persistent blocked duct. so there.
this morning's gp dr appt didn't go to script. first, she was half an hour late - possibly not her fault, but not helpful when babies only have so much waiting in them. then, after I got my paed. and IVF dr referrals, we did the quick check of this small lump in my breast. she was supposed to say "it's nothing, side effect of breastfeeding, go home you silly worrying female."
instead I have a mammogram and ultrasound tomorrow afternoon, another appt Wednesday to get the results (both of which will interfere with my and/or A's naps) and no guarantee there won't also be a needle biopsy before I head to HK 8 days from now. If I head home. if there are any real problems, I'm so staying here.
at least my Dad will be here tomorrow and can stay longer to cover the mammogram. not that I'll tell him that's what it is. boring, boring. this isn't allowed to be anything other than a persistent blocked duct. so there.
Sunday, November 07, 2004
soon I'll sit down and write about the upcoming one-year anniversary for my little love and I.
right now, though, the priority is trying to duplicate last night's EXCELLENT sleep, in which I dropped a little blue pill, went to sleep around 10:30, got up only once to wee (though I woke and went back to sleep a couple of times), and my baby didn't cry until 6.44 am. so he doesn't need the rollover now. that's it. hopefully. then we went back to bed at 8 and slept until 10!!!!
having to use drugs on myself to achieve this is a pity. but I think it's justifiable. I really need the catchup. it's been two weeks of poor sleeps. and the way I felt today suggests that a few weeks of good sleep would uncover a different, better woman inside this foot-dragging, whingeing, just-making it creature I feel I've become.
tonight we purchased: one clamshell shaped sandpit/wading pool (sans sand, but I can ask for that for presents). one shape sorter. one present for the baby group Kris Kringle next week. one random activity board. lots of wrapping paper. he was so tired by the end of all that, poor little love. he's such a trouper. we're having heaps of fun just being at home with dog, friends to run into on the street, local school fairs to go to. it seems such a shame to go back to HK. but Daddy is due on Friday and go back we will. not yet. not yet.
right now, though, the priority is trying to duplicate last night's EXCELLENT sleep, in which I dropped a little blue pill, went to sleep around 10:30, got up only once to wee (though I woke and went back to sleep a couple of times), and my baby didn't cry until 6.44 am. so he doesn't need the rollover now. that's it. hopefully. then we went back to bed at 8 and slept until 10!!!!
having to use drugs on myself to achieve this is a pity. but I think it's justifiable. I really need the catchup. it's been two weeks of poor sleeps. and the way I felt today suggests that a few weeks of good sleep would uncover a different, better woman inside this foot-dragging, whingeing, just-making it creature I feel I've become.
tonight we purchased: one clamshell shaped sandpit/wading pool (sans sand, but I can ask for that for presents). one shape sorter. one present for the baby group Kris Kringle next week. one random activity board. lots of wrapping paper. he was so tired by the end of all that, poor little love. he's such a trouper. we're having heaps of fun just being at home with dog, friends to run into on the street, local school fairs to go to. it seems such a shame to go back to HK. but Daddy is due on Friday and go back we will. not yet. not yet.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
November 1 - a tiny, tiny shuffle forward. November 3 - a proper step or three, moving about 15 cm forward. today, the same again. he's running everywhere with his walky horse, taking his training very seriously. must...walk...must...walk.
have asked Dad to bring the video camera down next week as I'm afraid it will be too late by the time dh brings it over on the 12th (B-day) for the party.
in other news, Australia is heading for another abortion debate. SO glad I took the trouble to hand-code my ballot paper and put "Family First" last of all. idjuts. as is the woman who wrote an article I read today in Melbourne's Child, an article which apparently was first printed in the Bulletin. she raves about intercountry adoption - fine - but starts off by talking about how women "turn their bodies inside out" and spend thousands on IVF, when they could be adopting - and has the gall to then say she's not trying to compare the two. oh? THEN WHY EVEN MENTION IT???
why can't women just leave each other's choices alone?
have asked Dad to bring the video camera down next week as I'm afraid it will be too late by the time dh brings it over on the 12th (B-day) for the party.
in other news, Australia is heading for another abortion debate. SO glad I took the trouble to hand-code my ballot paper and put "Family First" last of all. idjuts. as is the woman who wrote an article I read today in Melbourne's Child, an article which apparently was first printed in the Bulletin. she raves about intercountry adoption - fine - but starts off by talking about how women "turn their bodies inside out" and spend thousands on IVF, when they could be adopting - and has the gall to then say she's not trying to compare the two. oh? THEN WHY EVEN MENTION IT???
why can't women just leave each other's choices alone?
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
damn! hotmail, in its wisdom, has deleted the whole of ababybaby(AT)hotmail.com
I can get the address back, but not all the mail I've been sent and sent out over the last three years. will probably switch to gmail when I can be bothered creating that account and updating my details here.
I can get the address back, but not all the mail I've been sent and sent out over the last three years. will probably switch to gmail when I can be bothered creating that account and updating my details here.
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