My Little Bs Have the Big C

A Breast Cancer Blog For Young Women

My Life In Two Parts

4 Comments

When I go on vacation, I take thousands of pictures.  I can’t help it.  I love looking at the world through the camera and I’m afraid that if I don’t document every moment, I will forget it.  This drives my husband crazy.  He just wants to keep moving and exploring.  I want to take a picture of that beautiful flower bud with the river in the distance.  We differ in that way.  But always…always…when push comes to shove, we have amazing memories to look back on.  Inevitably, when we look back, we come across a picture and we realize that it shows a moment that we had forgotten.  A moment that, without that picture, might be lost forever.

The other night I was looking at our first and last vacation as a family, just Ken, Oliver and I.  We went to Oregon.  I had always wanted to visit the Pacific Northwest and we decided that this would be the perfect first trip to take with a toddler.  There’d be lots to see and do, great food to eat, wine tasting, hiking, culture, ocean…everything.  And this vacation delivered.  It was June of 2014.  Oliver was 18 months old.  It fell on our 6th anniversary.  But after it ended, one week later is when I found my lump and our lives changed forever.

I haven’t looked at these pictures in a very long time.  It feels like a lie.  A fraud.  Looking at our smiling faces…we were ignorant of what was coming.  Of what was already growing inside of me.  I look at those pictures and I know what in the next chapter.

I see those pictures and I’m scared for the people in them, as if it wasn’t me or my family.  They are another family.  It’s going to happen to someone else.  I cry for them because they don’t know what’s about to hit them.

I think about my cancer then…laughing…mocking me…like a thief hiding in your closet only to come out when you’re not looking to take everything that’s precious to you and turn your home upside down.  Cancer stole so much from us.  It turned our lives upside down.  But when I look at those pictures, all I see are those unknowing, unsuspecting people.  And I just want to scream at them to beware of what’s lurking.

I now think about my life consisting of two parts; before breast cancer (BBC) and after breast cancer (ABC).  I often look back to the time before breast cancer and long for what I had.  It wasn’t perfect. Is anything ever perfect?  But we were happy.  We were traveling, which was a goal of mine for Oliver.  I was satisfied with my career and beginning to think of the next steps.  I started thinking about the possibility of having another child even though I had said, “one and done.”  My life was developing and moving forward.  These pictures remind me of that.  It breaks my heart.

After breast cancer is much different.  I have trouble seeing the future in the way I used to. I don’t know what my life is supposed to look like now.  I don’t know what I want to do or where I want to go.  What are my goals?  What are the next steps in my life?  It’s like cancer is the glue that sticks me to this past year and half and won’t let me move forward. And these photos, however beautiful, however memorable, remind me of that.

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Do you view your life in two parts; before breast cancer and after breast cancer?

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4 thoughts on “My Life In Two Parts

  1. Beautiful post, Carrie. And lovely photos too. This piece resonates with me a lot. I find it hard to look at old photos of myself. Like you, I feel sad about that person who wasn’t aware that breast cancer would happen to her. I had plans. I wanted to build a family. Then cancer happened so unexpectedly. Now I view my life in two parts. And yes, cancer is a thief. I used to think of my future a lot before cancer. Now I am scared to plan ahead.

    What I find myself struggling with, mostly, is finding my new identity. I feel stuck in between two worlds. I can’t go back to the life I had before cancer but I also can’t live in cancerland all the time. I have a life to live.

    I find myself adjusting a lot in a place where I no longer feel safe. I think it takes time to build some level of confidence, but it has gotten better for me in some ways. I still practice taking one day at a time.

    I am sorry cancer happened to us but I believe we’ll have better days. xoxo

    • I hear you when you say that you are struggling to find a new identity. I’m in the same boat. My follow-up post to this one, when I get the courage to write it, is about how I feel completely stuck. I’m sorry cancer happened to us as well. I hope it does get better and sooner rather than later.

  2. Great post, Carrie. I think we can all identify with this. One of my friends recently posted a meme she’d created about this. She identifies the two parts of her life as ‘B.C. and A.D.’ which are ‘before cancer’ and ‘after diagnosis.’ Having cancer is definitely like experiencing a loss of innocence. Things are never the same. Our outlook is never the same. And I do think it’s harder the younger we are at diagnosis, but it’s still mind-blowing no matter how old we are. It’s coming up on eight years since I was diagnosed, and I’m still NED so far, and I still hate that I’m living in A.D. time. Forever. The struggle to accept that continues. I’m glad you took all those photos. I hope you can make some new, good memories and take more of them. Despite cancer. xoxo, Kathi

    • We are hoping to make new memories this summer. We need to visit my sister-in-law in Wisconsin so we are going to make a trip of it. We hope to drive to Chicago, then to Madison and them somewhere in Michigan. I don’t know where yet but I’m excited by the idea.

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