A Survival 'do-over'

I have returned from my trip to the East Coast and finally feel like I have space and time for me - something that I have not had in quite a while.

Since my diagnosis, I have been crazy busy navigating the heavy hitting, toxic treatments: chemo, surgery & radiation. It wasn't like I didn't have time to take care of me, but I was always taking care of myself as an immediate reaction to a treatment - getting through the toxic treatments in a healthy way, with the health being the focus.

As I explain this all to my brother, he responds back, "Oh, you were thrown back into survival mode."

OMG! I have was so deep 'in it' that I didn't even realize that I was back in that place again! And at that moment I realized I had been given a 'do-over'.

Instead of doing survival mode they way I used to in the past: manipulation, denial, blinding emotional reactions, drama, disassociation, getting angry at myself for 'not doing it right' and restrictive control, I got a chance to "do" survival over - and this time I did it by creating new choices for myself and did not let myself drown in the huge waves.

Before I even began, I knew what 'healthy' support and 'dysfunctional' support looked like. I carved the path of health within the dysfunction by making sure I was always well supported with healthy support. Even when I perceived dysfunctional support, my 'no' was honored, which transmuted the dysfunctional support healthy. I did not allow myself to isolate, go into a trauma 'freeze' or have huge overwhelming feelings without naming them to others (or writing them out) and then asking for more support. I was adamant about remaining conscious about all my choices (even when I choose to take disassociating drugs). I never blame or shamed myself for doing something 'wrong' - because I never did. I took responsibility for all my choices. I trusted my intuition. I continued to love myself even in the midst of the worst storm.

I trusted what is true for me and my unique journey.

And from this place I learned compassion for the dysfunctional support in my past, and what forgiveness for myself and others really feels like from the inside out.

I have learned humility. I have learned to walk the coals with grace.

I worked hard.

I rocked it!

No wonder why I'm exhausted.

The aftermath of all the treatments has left me tired. My joints creak and sometimes there is all over body ache. When I get up from a sitting position, I start to do my 'old lady from Florida' routine. I'm not sure if this is from the chemo, the fact that I am still menopausal or the herceptin.

I listen to what my body has to say and hear: "rest" and "nourishment".

So, I practice what I preach by staying inside. I'm limiting my social engagements, I'm only working part time, I try to be in bed by 9pm, and I'm spend the days quietly reading on the sofa.

I'm not interested in sugar and dream of fresh juices. I'm very clear about what I don't want (meat) and what I do want (raw foods) and let my body guide me.

Because the Herceptin (every 3 weeks as and IV until Feb 2010) and Tamoxifen (a pill every day for 5 years) work differently than the past drugs, I've been given the 'thumbs up' by my alternative support team to start a gentle homeopathic cleanse that will get the heavy toxins out of my system, but will not interfere with the current drugs. I hope it will clear out the last of my neuropathy and body aches.

Sometimes I'm concerned because I don't have the same 'drive' to do anything anymore that I used to. I don't want to change the world. I don't want to teach what I know. I don't want to educate others about childbirth choices. I don't want to do much, but rest.

Can I get paid to gaze at my navel? Can I get paid to read books and nap? Can I get paid to write witty updates on Facebook?

Because I have chosen to go back to work part time, I have carved out a luxury that most people do not have within our masculine "go-Go- GO!" society: time to rest, go within, nourish and heal.

I observe myself at work holding space in a very different way. I feel clear, and I know exactly what to do, even if I have never had the experience before.

A client of mine who is birthing her baby at home, is pushing out the baby's head, when my assistant and I notice that the head does not extend fully out from perineum. A true shoulder dystocia. My body and hands move as though I have been a midwife for eons. I know exactly what to do. I have tapped into a place that I think can not be "me", yet it is who I am and have been all along. The baby emerges with the support of my hands, gracefully with no drama, no trauma.

I can feel the hormones going crazy again.... surges in my libido are followed by long moments of staring into space trying to find momentum.

I pray for help into the unknown, "Please, God, Jesus, Buddha, Abraham, Allah....somebody??? help me! my body hurts and I don't like it." I mourn out loud to my angels, "My passion is gone and I don't know how to move forward without it!"

I breath deeply into my quiet time and I dream.

I dream of something very different. I dream that I am holding an infant. It is definitely a boy, with a blond, bowl like haircut and am show how it resembling my grandmother's hair (my past) and also my nephews hair (my future).

I witness this infant being held close to a body. And I realize that this body is me. And I am hold a child. My child. A son.

I sweetly sing in his ear. I coo to him. I gaze at him.

We speak a gentle, soft language together.

My heart is slowly opening to him.

I wake up feeling different, dancing on the edge of tears .

And I know now I have been given a 'do-over' not just to how I navigate survival, but to my inner, masochistic masculine self.

Like the post partum mom who has just been through a huge life changing event, my job is to stay in, rest, nourish myself and my baby - and continue to stay in that sweet, gentle newborn rhythm.

I hold myself close and let the gentle tears fall.

I find the places in myself where I am scared, because all I know in the world is how to work from a place of the dysfunctional, aggressive, fast paced, high energy masculine ways where "I know" everything. And I feel the place where I am attached to my masochistic wound as unhealthy as it is - because the new way of 'not knowing' and being gentle and spacious to myself is so foreign.

And I make a choice. But this time I don't leap into the unknown. I'm done with the hard way, I really want to do things in a loving and easy way.

This time, like a cat licking her wounds clean, I curl up on myself, hold myself gently and rest. Because I am not moving around so much, I pull off the band aid to reveal the gash that needs a bit of ease, love and space to heal. I allow my wounds from cancer and all her toxic therapies to get some air.

From this gentle, sweet, slow place, I am present.

I stay put,
but I keep hearing,
that within this stillness,
I am moving forward.