Finding a way to cope.

In life we all face difficult times, some trivial and some tragic. Some problems are quickly solved and gone while others take time and can leave a lasting mark. There are some things that we have no control over and many more that we have no way to change. However, in all situations we do have a choice in how we react. There is no right or wrong way to deal with difficult challenges, everyone feels in different ways and everyone heals in different ways. All you can do is find a way that works for you.

Going through those four weeks of chemo was a great distraction from what lay ahead of us. I made myself become obsessive over cleaning, enjoy and embrace every smile that Maisie made and focus on getting through each day one day at a time. Maisie made this possible for me because she handled her chemo so well. I could count on one hand the number of times she vomited, had a temperature or had unplanned hospital visits. Most days she managed to keep the colour in her face, she held onto every little hair and eyelash that she had and the lump on her side had pretty much disappeared. So with her looking and doing so well I didn't allow myself to think of what was waiting at the end of the four weeks. Denial was my chosen remedy and it had worked up until then. 

However, when she received her last chemo treatment my ability to stay in denial was no longer an option. I could no longer deny that the following week she was going to be admitted into hospital for her surgery. All the thoughts and feelings that I had been pushing down and avoiding for the past few weeks came bubbling up and spilling out of me. I was drenched in fear and overcome with worry. As with every surgery, there are various possible risks but there is always one ultimate risk that makes your heart stop beating when you hear it and I cant even type out the words. I knew it could happen. She was only a tiny baby, nine months old, with a large cancerous tumour, undergoing major surgery, and the very worst case scenario was a possibility and I knew I wasn't strong enough to deal with it. I couldn't handle the thought that her little life could be over before it even had a chance to start. 

They say a problem shared is a problem halved, but a problem of this magnitude was not going to be easily broken down. Family and friends were brilliant support to us but no-one really and truly understands how it feels for Keith and I as parents to face what were facing. And I'm glad they dont understand, because if they did it would mean they too have been through this situation and this is something I wish no parents should ever have to feel. I knew that I needed help. I needed someone or something bigger and greater than me, someone or something that I could find comfort in and seek refuge in. For me that person was God and the act of Baptism. That was my way to cope when my body was being crippled with fear and my world was falling apart.

Now I know theologically it made no difference to have Maisie baptised before her surgery, I knew it wasn't going to save her. But what it did do was give me comfort in knowing that she belonged to a church family, that she was a part of something bigger and greater than our family circle, that she had the grace of God upon her and it let me believe that during surgery she would be held in Gods hands when my arms could not physically hold her. Now a lot of people may disagree with me in saying this or disagree with my reasons for doing this, but for me at that time it was what I needed to do to get myself through. 

The understanding, acceptance and compassion we received from the church is something that I will honestly never forget. We were welcomed into the church with open arms and made feel very much a part of the church family. Because Maisie was going through treatment and open to risk of infection we couldn't have the baptism during a normal church service, so on the Sunday afternoon before her surgery the minister allowed us to have a private ceremony where only our parents were present. It was a small, intimate and emotionally filled service and it was beautiful. Although the significance of why we chose to get her baptised on this day will never be forgotten and it will always lye heavy in the memories of that day, I will always look back on it with love in my heart. The day Maisie May got baptised and the day I found a little bit of strength and hope.

Wendy.