Happy 9 Weeks Baby Boy I wanted a king sized bed, you know. Just a few months ago. And for years, I thought about it, needed this thing. The final straw was when I was pregnant with Jack. I was just too huge, too uncomfortable, TOO much forced cuddling!! So, shortly after he was born, we got the mattress of my dreams. As I lay in bed this morning, a chasm separates myself and my husband. Even if I reach my arm out completely straight, I barely brush him with my fingertips. I can hear my son whimpering and grunting quietly in his sleep in his crib. I swear this kid is just like his dad. He sleeps about as quietly as a dump truck. I long for the days when I was nursing Jack and I could pull him into bed with me. I didn't know how lucky I really was. Honestly, I was starting to run myself ragged from breastfeeding. I thought it was a pain in the ass. But now I can't, and just the thought of it makes toxic tears well up in my eyes. Just one of the many reasons I can't have Jack here in bed with me, on his nine week birthday. My toxic tears, my toxic snot. My radioactive, dangerous sweat and piss and other shit. Basically, all of it. And I just feel starved and so alone. Just to review, chemo side effects from contact of my bodily fluids *may* include: Low white cell count Fever Anemia Neutropenia (that one, even I don't know what it means.) Cardio toxicity. Damage to the endocrine system. Infertility. Hair loss. Liver damage. Acute myeloid leukemia. Yea, that's not a typo. There's only a 5-6% chance of me contacting that gem, so I have to assume it is less as the chemo works its way out of my body. But it carries a 40-50% cure rate. When Dr. Sebhai, who is currently administering my chemo down here near to home told me about the side effects, he just looked at the ground. And with that one, he seemed like a robot. I wonder how many times a day he has to tell this to people like me. The most human thing he said to me that day? Hair loss is especially devastating for young women. Young women. And that's just the start of side effects. I don't dare google for more info right now. Lets just agree, it's hardly what you want your 9 week old son to have. And so the closest contact I have had this week was the girl who did my nails. She didn't seem scared. My dog, Professor Beauregard, or the professor, or just plain old Beau for short, doesn't seem aware. He's not a big cuddler unless its on his terms, which rules out the teddy bear death grip I currently have him in. I let go and he squirms away. I just let the toxic tears flow and wish I was in my old bed. Six legs, six arms and 8 fuzzy legs and two tails, too. Barely able to move, and surrounded by the love of my family, furbabies and all. In my crappy, too small, not very comfortable, perfect queen sized bed.