Not me, not now

I can't tell you what a bombshell it was to discover a lump in my boob 7 weeks into placement. I went cold when I chanced upon it in the shower. Whatever am I going to do? I asked myself. "No, not me, not now". It was Saturday and the children, for once were not lingering at the doorway asking what I was doing. I was grateful for that. It gave me time to register, pull myself together and put the brave face on.

A call to the doctors on the Monday and an apppoinment on the Tues. Kit off, examination and a question mark. I was asked to return two weeks later at a different point in my cycle. It didn't change, it was still there, I could feel it even if they couldn't. Second doctor, this time an absolute clarity that yes, there's a lump and it should be checked out immediately. Leave doctors and head to Odds Farm with tiddlers, smiles, ice cream, rabbits, tractors and this massive cloud hanging over me.

Irrational Me: "What if it's cancer?
Rational Me: "It won't be, it can't be"
Irrational Me: "Will they take the children away?"
Rational Me: "Don't be silly, this couldn't happen, not now"

Give the NHS their dues, I got a call not three hours after leaving the GP's with an appointment the following week. It wasn't until I received the referral letter that the full extent of what was happening hit me. "Please allow three to four hours for your appointment which will include ultrasound, consultation and possible mammogram and biopsy"

F*CK

Double f*ck who is going to look after the kids and what on earth am I going to tell whoever I ask, I can't tell them I am going to the Breast Cancer Clinic? I don't want to admit this is happening to myself, let alone anyone else (apart from hub)?

Found a babysitter, didn't sleep a wink turned up at clinic, had the ultrasound and saw a dark blob that was measured, silence.  Heart pounding I was willing the radiologist to tell me what she'd found. Gently and quietly she told me that she suspected that it was a cyst but the best way to confirm was to use a needle to try a draw out fluid. If no fluid came I would move onto biopsy. I willed that syringe to fill up and it did.

Thank you.

Never before have I wished an ultrasound to show me nothing. After 9 rounds of fertility treatment I couldn't help thinking that I'd packed my poor body so full of drugs that this was my comeuppance.

I was wrong. Lord knows why these things happen when they do, but I was one of the lucky ones.

I came home bruised and battered but happy.

Pain wasn't helped by little'est biting me smack on the spot where they'd inserted the needles while I was holding her during a tantrum but hey, you can't win them all. I haven't cried like that in front of them before but the pain was acute and seemed so unjust.  She registered that she'd really hurt me so I explained that Mummy had been to the doctors about her poorly boob but that it was better now but it hurt when she bit. It seemed to register, she apologised without prompting - a first.

Am going to bed grateful tonight but not before I have scoffed my celebratory Snickers.

Back to school

It's not by chance that I have just opened my laptop to start this blog to find a pop up on my calendar entitled "children's first day at school". I am ten weeks in to adopting three children, it's been a whirlwind, an adventure and a summer I certainly won't forget. Having packed two of the three off this morning (the other is at Super Gran's just so I could get through the school run unscathed) I am now sat in the paddling pool starting this blog. Here's what I have learnt:

1. NOTHING prepares you for adoption. You will be taken to breaking point and back. Everyone tells you this and you rightly nod your head and agree. Instead of worrying about it, make the most of your weeks and days leading up to introductions, have a lie in, drink a whole cup of tea, eat a chocolate bar in public view, read a book, have a bath in fact just enjoy being in the bathroom on your own.

2. It is ok to say "what have I done", you've just taken on some broken, confused little people.

3. You won't do everything as a family, some days you will pay your husband handsome sums just to get them all out of your hair for two hours. Equally, find somewhere to run to, dog walking before dawn and frequent trips to the gym have been the only thing holding my sanity together for much of the summer.

4. Soft play centres, Crocs, TV and DVD watching, all of the things you said you wouldn't do, you will. It makes life easier and this is now your sole aim in life.

5. Don't bother wrestling with them to get their shoes on before you get in the car, they'll have them off before you've got the engine started (see above ref Crocs).

6. They hear more than you think so watch what you say, little ears, especially little ears that have spent their early days listening for danger are very attuned.

7. Make friends with school. They are likely to know shit all about neglect, trauma, attachment, invest time upfront, far better than unpicking and apologising later.

8. Sod the recycling, ironing, weeding, that stuff can wait. In the words of the fantastic Sally Donovan "the most costly activity to this wonderful planet is procreation.  You’ve already done your bit. You have the carbon footprint of a vole."

9. Some of your friends will let you down, others will become your most close confidents, don't sweat the loss, celebrate the gain.

10. Lock the doors of rooms containing things you don't want broken

11, Nail varnish, expensive Clarins creams, put all of these things out of reach. They care little about the bleach and much more about drinking your Cowshed Lavendar bath soak.

12. Try your hardest to parent therapeutically and with empathy, it will pay in the long run. This is all well and done until they use a stone to draw a line down the side of your car so expect to lose it and walk away when you do rather than shout like a fish wife which is what you'll want to do.

13. They won't wish to walk the family dog, instead they may well kick/scratch/shout/strangle him. Allow them their time out too, they'll need it as much as you do.

13. People who hardly know you and who know even less about adoption, trauma, attachment and neglect will tell you to "chill out". It is perfectly acceptable to punch these people in the face (preferably out of sight of the children).

14. Most importantly, everyday, no matter how bad, something magic will happen. They'll say there first 'Muuuuuhhhhuuuuuum", they'll reach for your hand on a walk, you'll leave the supermarket with all three children and none of them will be in tears / injured,  they'll say thank you or smile, they'll play together for longer than 3 minutes, they'll laugh.

15. You'll realise over the time that you're not mad (well  maybe a little bit), you can do it (with help and support) and you are a cracking Mum.