I haven’t wanted to share this yet beyond close friends and family, because I didn’t want to cause alarm. Turns out there is none!

A few months ago, I found a lump in my breast. I waited a few weeks to see if it went away. It didn’t, so I went to my gyno, who sent me to get an ultrasound.

The doctor who read the ultrasound said he was “pretty sure” it was a fibroadenoma (nothing to worry about), but if I wanted to be sure, I could have a biopsy.

All my friends and family said I should go ahead with the biopsy. But it wasn’t urgent, so at first I wasn’t that worried.

Then I talked to my GP, who freaked me out about the biopsy, and told me I could have a mammogram as a sort of “second opinion.” I did that. Still they suggested biopsy.

Ok, at this point, I’m getting a little worried. But I go on vacation for 3 weeks, and have my biopsy scheduled for when I get back.

Every day, it eats at me a little. What if.but no, I refuse to think that far. I tend to overdo it.

I come back (only a few breakdowns under my belt) and have the biopsy. They tell me it’ll be 2-7 days before I get the results back. I can’t imagine a week of being on edge.

Two days later (today) I hear back. I’m fine. Sigh of relief.

What I Took Away

I’m only 34, so I’ve got a few years before I have to start having mammograms. But I’m not afraid of them now after the two I’ve had. They’re really not that bad.

The biopsy wasn’t bad either. I watched the needle going in and couldn’t feel it. The worst part is I have to wait 72 hours before taking a bath and I so desperately want one. (Yes, I can shower).

Last week I “made an offering to the breast cancer gods,” and donated to Susan G. Komen. I think I’ll keep doing that.

I was prepared in the event that I got bad news. I know I’m strong enough to handle it. And one day, I might get that (or other) bad health news. I will survive, as so many have already.

I am happy to be alive and healthy. Take nothing for granted. And do your self-checks!!

Today the three of us found ourselves on a playground. While the boys played on the jungle gym, I decided I felt like a swing.

Before long, a girl about 9 joined me and began to swing. We engaged in small talk. Soon we were pumping our legs in sync, seeing who could swing higher. I felt her age.

“Lean backwards like this!” she demonstrated falling back and looking behind her on the swing.

Before I could let my usual adult excuses kick in, I leaned back. I felt exhilaration, fear, and the familiar.

“It makes me a little uncomfortable to do that, but at the same time, I like it,” she explained in uncanny adult language.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

After that lesson, she also urged me to close my eyes while swinging. I got that same mix of fear and freedom.

Why as adults do we lose the ability to let go like this? Why did it take a stranger — a child to get me to free myself, if only for 5 minutes?

photo credit: tazmany

Max has always been Mama’s boy. I don’t mean it in a negative way; he’s just always preferred my company, and we’re more alike. But lately I’ve felt him slipping away. I knew it would come, but couldn’t prepare.

For my husband, it’s great. Max is more physical now, which means they wrestle and fight a lot while I look on over the book I’m reading. I don’t resent them spending more time together; I’m glad of it. I just feel a little…well, empty.

And in place of snuggling up with me, he’s arguing with me. The Hub and I recognize that it’s a power struggle, but it’s one I’m not interested in engaging. Today I took away his iPhone in an effort to show him that arguing relentlessly has consequences. He seemed to get it.

I feel like we’re already embarking on teendom, and I’m not ready. After all, he’s only 7!