I want to write a post about my hair. I want to write about how I’ve always struggled with it, but mostly made it work for me. I want to write about how it’s probably been my best (physical) feature through the years. About how I used to get up early early every morning in high school to wash, dry, and curl it on hot rollers every morning. And then how I let it go straight in college as time got tight. And then let it grow it past my waist — mostly because I went to school in a small town and the nearest salon was an hour away. I want to write about how I finally cut it off in a fit of liberation the summer before my junior year, because I was tired of wearing it wet in a braid to chem lab in the mornings. And then how I met my husband the next week. (He’s never seen me with hair quite that long, and I’m not even sure he’s ever quite believed that it was so.) I want to write about how he’s always loved my hair, long or short, and how I’ve loved him for that. How pregnancy hormones have been good to my hair, growing it long and strong and thick, but how it falls out slowly, gently, but persistently afterwards for months as my body returns to something approximating its pre-pregnancy state. How my babies love to tug on my hair, and how that has changed me too, as I have grown to understand how mother-love is all-encompassing and protective, and different in every way from any other love. (Who else would we tolerate, even encourage, hair-pulling from? Certainly not that little boy in first grade messing with our pigtails!) I want to write about how I’ll miss the baby tugging on my hair when I’m bald from chemotherapy.
But hair is so utterly unimportant to me right now that what I really just want to say tonight is, it’s gone. I went to a fancy salon to get it cut off to a short-short cut today to get ready for chemo next week, and I don’t even care.
I’m so happy that I’m going to live.
Yesterday. Today. Soon. Very Soon.
I look kinda like this. Except not this skinny. Seriously — who looks like this after two children?
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I think it’s incredibly sexy!!!!!!
Beautiful, three fold! You are dazzling and we love ya!
You may miss the baby tugging on your hair after chemo, but what about the toddler playing bongos on your bald head?
So much to look forward to.
Stimey, was that you in the gardens behind us as we took photos today? 🙂 Letting Widget play the bongos on my head was the only way we could get him to look at the camera, much less laugh! I think about one in five pictures from today are usable, but boy are they cute! I figured I had nothing to lose with my haircut today. If it was cute, great! If not, well, I’d just start wearing my chemo hats a little early. 🙂
you are perfect. it’s amazing, isn’t it, how easily very few things matter.
I am being serious when I tell you that if you want me to knit you something cool for your head, I will. I have no idea what, but if you want me to, let me know your favorite colors, and what you think you’d want…hat/scarf/whatever. Let me know, and I will get on that asap!
such an odd path to hair liberation. but great idea to cut it off in preparation. my mom looked AWESOME when she lost her hair to chemo- and it grew in differently.
oh, and glad you heard my prayers at 1:30. 😉
I’m glad you don’t look like the chic in those pictures – her head is waaay to big for her body! 🙂
I’ve always admired how you are so comfortable with experimenting with your hair. Cutting it when you feel like it, growing it when you feel like it. Your hair is so thick and beautiful, but your smile is even more beautiful. And that’s something chemo won’t change and all four of your boys will always have.
You look beautiful!
I saw a girl that skinny after two kids once.
I sliced her in half with just one glance. Really, she should have been eating more and working out less..not my fault.
You’re beautiful, anyway that you look at it.
And that beauty is going to be more apparent every day of this journey.
Making my way here from Jenn. I am so glad she posted a link. Wishing you the best with hair or not.
That’s a strong and bold thing to have done. Good luck!
Have you considered a hot pink wig? Now’s the only time you’ll get away with that, you know.
Great way to head into chemo (hmm… no pun intended). I think I’d love to get a sporty new hair cut too!
You’ll be beautiful no matter what.
That is the perfect example of how proactive you are, WhyMommy. Cutting your hair short in advance of chemo.
Brilliant, you.
You look gorgeous I’m sure! You should try the wig I had in the 80s… multi colored tinsel. My 2 year old would love that one for sure!
Who looks like that BEFORE two children?
Good point, Sarah! You always make me laugh. But what are you doing reading my blog while you’re at the BEACH? Go play! Play for us too, and my funny little soon-to-be-bald-and-sunburned head!
I like the blue and pink and tinsel wig ideas. Maybe I’ll do that. I’m also really seriously considering wearing a loosely woven crocheted cap over the baldness at the beach one day, to get funny patterns tanned into it. Probably a terrible idea. But it would be fun.
The hats and scarves I ordered have begun to arrive … who knew I’d like this kind of accessory so much? It does make me laugh.
It’s not a bald head – it’s a solar panel for a cancer fighting machine!
Hooray for your pretty soon-to-be-bald head!
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