The night before my biopsy
I didn’t sleep at all.
The day before my biopsy
We went to the beach and
Dug in the salty sand
Two days before my biopsy
We picked blueberries at the farm
Cuddled one another close
And the baby cut his first tooth
Three days before the biopsy
I saw a doctor, and I saw a nurse
They said “I don’t like the looks of this”
We went for a mammogram, an ultrasound
And took care of business like we take care of the children
Four days before my biopsy
I was tired of waiting for my appointment
My breast swelled, and I noticed that it was warm
The skin had thickened and grown ugly
One side was tender and a little lumpy
So I called a nurse at the Cancer Center
Five days before my biopsy
I tried not to think about what I had been feeling
For I had been worried about my mom-in-law
Newly diagnosed with cancer (Stage II)
We had all been trying to lift her spirits
With calls, little gifts, and funny anecdotes
Six days before my biopsy
I took the children to the park
We laughed, we played, we had a snack
Just an ordinary day — except that when
I lifted the boys, my right arm twinged
And I had to put them down
Seven days before my biopsy
I tried not to think about it
And really, I didn’t, because
There was no reason to worry
Was there?
Eight days before my biopsy
My obstetrician took a look and said
“I don’t like the looks of this.”
And he sent me to a specialist
Nine days before my biopsy
I called my O.B. and told him I was worried
But I wasn’t much
Ten days before my biopsy
My breast felt funny.
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Toddler Planet 
This is so beautiful.
And real.
Thank you for sharing it.
I’m thinking of you today, my friend. ((hugs))
Sad and lovely post. I hope your biopsy is good. Thinking of you.
This is my first time here by way of Slouching Mom. This was a touching post. Add me to the list of people who are thinking of you and wishing you well.
You must be exhausted. I hope you can get some rest now. Please let me know when it’s okay to call, I don’t want to disturb you.
What an amazing contrast in your post – the joy and the worry. Thank you for sharing.
Rest now mama, you’ll have answers soon.
I’m thinking about you.
Love this. Love you.
Came this way from your friend http://canapesun.blogspot.com/ and I know that you know how lucky you are to have friends like her that really really care. There are many people thinking good thoughts for you today and I hope everything comes out ok.
Here from Slouching Mom… what a beautiful post in the face of such an ugly scary thing. My thoughts are with you too.
I’m hear to lend my extra-wide ass to the wall of support that Canape wants to surround you with. If it’s going to be this big (my ass) I figure it should be put to good use.
So feel free to lean against us. Use us for support. We’ll be here for you.
here and listening.
and that was beautiful, agonizing…the progression back, layers of an onion still not fully unfolded revealing themselves.
this must be so scary and so surreal, Whymommy – vivid and yet hard to reconcile with it being YOU at the centre of it.
thinking of you.
Sending positive thoughts and strength.
That was awesome and beautiful.
I will be thinking of you all day tomorrow!
Let us know how it went.
I’m thinking of you too.
You are in my thoughts.
Beautiful post.
Hoping all goes well with the biopsy. I’ve been thinking about you.
Since your biopsy you’ve had more and more of us walking behind you. Holding you in our thoughts and wishing you strength and hope.
here again, just checking in, realizing you may not have news yet…but realizing that if waiting is troubling MY mind this much, then maybe another helpless but caring “hi, thinking about you” wouldn’t hurt.
Thank you, all. I’ve been trying to write to each of you, to thank you, but I haven’t gotten very far on my list. Just … thank you. I need to know I’m not alone right now, and you all are wonderful. I’ll post an update as I put the baby down for nap….
Strange how you want to stop and understand what is going on, yet life continues around you.
I am thinking of you, please know that you are not alone…
For me, this post makes it real. I’m admiring your strength, your adaptability – and believing in you.