Recently, I found myself sitting in my driveway, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my skin while diving into a captivating novel for the first time in ages. As I soaked in the tranquility, a familiar sense of dread washed over me—an unsettling reminder of the shadows cast by my past traumas.
After enduring a relentless series of life challenges over three years, I’ve struggled to embrace a state of calm. Letting go and trusting the universe feels impossible. Fear, chaos, and panic have been my constant companions, and oddly enough, I feel guilty for experiencing moments of happiness. How is that even fair?
My journey began with the anticipation of adopting a fourth child. Matched with expectant parents halfway through the pregnancy, I naively believed everything would progress smoothly. My children’s eagerness heightened my anxiety as they constantly asked about the baby’s arrival, and I was acutely aware that everything could unravel at any moment. Thankfully, our adoption was successful, and our little one is now three years old.
However, six months after her arrival, I noticed an unusual tenderness in my upper right breast. Each time I unbuckled my seatbelt or lifted my purse, discomfort would arise. After consulting my gynecologist and undergoing a mammogram and ultrasound, I was relieved to receive clear results. But soon after, an overwhelming sense of foreboding took hold. Seeking a second opinion led to a biopsy, and my life shattered with the news: I had breast cancer.
In just six weeks, I underwent genetic testing, an MRI, and numerous consultations, culminating in an agonizing decision. I could opt for a lumpectomy followed by radiation or choose a bilateral mastectomy. After much deliberation and prayer, I decided on the mastectomy. It was a grueling journey, taking a full year to gradually reclaim my identity—my new identity. Throughout this period, I faced countless medical appointments, often bursting into tears.
Amidst my cancer battle, I discovered one of my children had undiagnosed special needs. I initiated evaluations through both the school system and private channels, only to find myself on a two-year path fraught with challenges to secure appropriate support.
Now, as I strive to embrace life and enter the holiday season with gratitude, I find it difficult to fully enjoy the present. Time anxiety plagues me—when I experience peace, guilt washes over me for not being productive. The past three years have been a whirlwind of research, meetings, and medical appointments, and now that the storm has calmed, I struggle to find my footing.
It’s easy for others to say I should feel lucky: I have the family I longed for, I’m cancer-free, and my child is receiving the education they need. Yet, the remnants of trauma linger, whispering that if I lower my defenses, disaster will strike. My trauma tells me that happiness is fleeting.
Therapy, medication, prayer, and healthy habits have played significant roles in my healing. I am gradually finding my way back to solid ground, learning to trust the process. I may never understand why I faced cancer, why my adoption journey was tumultuous, or why securing educational support for my child was so difficult. Still, I am committed to allowing myself the grace to enjoy the present moment and the people surrounding me.
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Summary:
This article chronicles the author’s journey through trauma, from adoption challenges to a breast cancer diagnosis and navigating the complexities of parenting a child with special needs. Through therapy, medication, and a supportive network, the author is learning to embrace moments of joy while grappling with the lingering effects of trauma.