I Forgot My Anniversary

Miles turned 2 today. I still see his tiny face that I held in my hands for the first time 2 years ago every time I look at him. He's my first love. My baby. The baby who made me want to have a zillion more babies. Me. The girl who had held like 2 babies in her whole life because their wobbly heads scared me. The girl who thought babies were messy and dirty (and they are!) and didn't want any until I met Boris. Me. The girl who hired a nanny well before Miles was born because I thought I'd go back to work immediately. And then I met Miles. And suddenly, I didn't care about the mess and the dirt (okay, so I did but still worshiped him) and didn't want my nanny to come anywhere near him. I wanted to be with him all the time and would cry if I was away from him for more than 2 hours (swear, ask Boris). In college, I remember reading an interview with Madonna in which she was asked what her greatest accomplishment was. Her response was her children. At the time I found that so annoying. This amazing artist and businesswoman was more proud of her children? For some reason I always think about that when I think of my kids and how they are really all that matters and what I am most proud of, grateful for and in love with.

2 sounds so young. Miles is still a baby. And yet he's such a big boy. He has his own thoughts and feelings and can express them all so amazingly. He now routinely tells me "I don't like that," what he "needs," that "Miles is sad," or "frustrated," or "hungry." We had a great morning together. He's so much fun and even snuggled with me without me asking. After lunch, Miles laid down in his crib (with his new red sunglasses on) and I left for radiation. In the changing room I put on my gown like I do every day but today I realize that it's been an entire year since my cancer diagnosis. One whole year. Boris and I had planned a big first birthday bash for Miles last year that we canceled because I had heard the words "it's cancer," just days before.

I forgot my anniversary. I've been in treatment and cancer free (as far as we know) for 1 year. At least that's how my doctors look at it. 2 more years to go before my chances of a recurrence plummet.

What a year it's been. Undoubtedly the worst of my whole life. And the best. I've suffered like I never could have imagined. I've faced death -- something that most people my age have never done and hopefully never will. And I gave birth to a miracle. A beautiful, healthy, ridiculously happy miracle who makes my heart swell each time he smiles at me. Miles makes me laugh a zillion times a day. I have my best friend and love of my life by my side and know that our marriage will survive anything. I can wear anything without a bra.