What's Left of Me
Page 71
“You’ll never fail me, Parker. You are helping. Just being here with me is helping.”
“Having you here, in my bed and in my arms, thinking about these past couple months … your cancer, everything, my mind is racing, and …”
“Just say it, Parker. The more you talk, the less I think about wanting to throw up.”
“You’d make a great mom, Aundrea. I know this isn’t the time to bring this up, but I can’t help but think about you and that night at my place when I brought up the topic of kids.” I find comfort in his voice, and I allow myself to relax, untangling from the knots forming in my joints.
“What about it?”
“You never gave me an answer. When I asked if kids weren’t out of the question for you. And you’d make an excellent mom ...”
Okay, now I want to throw up. Whether or not you want kids is an important part of any relationship. It can break it or bring it closer. I don’t want it to break us.
There’s something about being in the dark with him that makes me want to address my fears.
Taking in a deep breath, I say, “I’m not sure I can have kids.”
He doesn’t say anything for a while, which makes my heart race. “I think I knew that. I mean, with the chemo. But did you do that thing where you freeze your eggs for ... if you ever wanted them?”
I can hear the fear in his voice. The wondering, the need for comfort. “Yes.” I feel him soften next to me. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to carry a baby after all the chemo I’ve had. Or that a procedure with a surrogate would take. Or that I’d ever be able to afford that.”
“But, still, they’re not out of the question for you?”
“Never, Parker. I want kids, but I’m okay if I can’t have my own. I’m not against adoption … my parents were blessed with Genna. What I’m scared of is leaving kids if my cancer comes back.”
“Oh, Aundrea.” He pulls me closer. “You’d make a great mother. And wife.”
“Maybe.”
“You still don’t want to get married?”
“It’s not something I’ve ever been interested in.”
“Why not?”
A tear trickles down my cheek. Before I can wipe it away, Parker reaches over and wipes it with his thumb. Our eyes stay connected and my heart is beating fast as I take in the serious look on his face.
“You don’t have to say anything, Aundrea. I get it. You’re scared, but just because you can’t see your future, doesn’t mean I can’t. I see it clearly because I can see mine.”
Parker doesn’t leave my side in the weeks following my final treatment. He is true to his word, acting as my arms when I am too weak, my legs when I don’t think I can move, and my voice when I can’t stand to talk because of the sores. He never looks at me like I am anything but beautiful.
He goes back to work, so Genna comes over to spend the days with me until I’m able to move around freely on my own. He calls and texts multiple times a day, checking in and making sure I’m doing okay, but I never felt like he’s crowding me. I learn to welcome the help, and even enjoy it.
When it comes time for my last lab draw and appointment with Dr. Olson, Parker can’t get out of a surgery and business dinner that he’d already scheduled. I tell him it’s okay and that he’ll be the first to know the results.
Heading to the hospital is the first time I’ve left his house since my last appointment. I read online that it could take up to twelve weeks to see my eyelashes or eyebrows start growing back. Three months seems like a lot, but two weeks have already passed and another four will be spent in the hospital, so I know I can handle it.
“Hi, Aundrea,” Dr. Olson says with a big grin. “Genna.” She shakes my sister’s hand.
“Tell me some good news,” I plead.
“How about great news?”
“That’s even better,” I say with an equally large grin.
“I have you scheduled for the transplant tomorrow morning. Your counts are fantastic, so I don’t want to waste any time.”
“So soon?” I’m beyond ready, but that means I won’t be able to have a full night with Parker before I have to spend four weeks apart from him.
Genna grabs my hand, looking at me with the cutest expression of pure joy. “Aundrea! This is so good!”
I’m overwhelmed.
I’m excited.
I’m speechless.
I know I still have a long road ahead of me, but this is the start of something good. It’s the start of my future.
I can’t wait to tell Parker. Dr. Olson isn’t sure how my visitations will work out quite yet, and won’t be until after the transplant. I can have people with me but, once I’m admitted, everyone has to leave. I can accept that.
I will accept that.
Genna is surprised when I tell her I want to stop by the clinic to tell Parker. I can’t wait until tonight, and I don’t want to tell him on the phone. I’m happy and want him to be a part of it.
Walking into the clinic, I’m thankful when no one is around besides Shannon behind the desk. I keep my distance with my head lowered, afraid to meet her eyes. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. Even though I have my wig on, I’m still missing two key features on my face.
“Aundrea! Hi! Parker should be out in a minute.”
“Hi.” I give a small wave, tucking my chin into my chest to hide my face.
“Having you here, in my bed and in my arms, thinking about these past couple months … your cancer, everything, my mind is racing, and …”
“Just say it, Parker. The more you talk, the less I think about wanting to throw up.”
“You’d make a great mom, Aundrea. I know this isn’t the time to bring this up, but I can’t help but think about you and that night at my place when I brought up the topic of kids.” I find comfort in his voice, and I allow myself to relax, untangling from the knots forming in my joints.
“What about it?”
“You never gave me an answer. When I asked if kids weren’t out of the question for you. And you’d make an excellent mom ...”
Okay, now I want to throw up. Whether or not you want kids is an important part of any relationship. It can break it or bring it closer. I don’t want it to break us.
There’s something about being in the dark with him that makes me want to address my fears.
Taking in a deep breath, I say, “I’m not sure I can have kids.”
He doesn’t say anything for a while, which makes my heart race. “I think I knew that. I mean, with the chemo. But did you do that thing where you freeze your eggs for ... if you ever wanted them?”
I can hear the fear in his voice. The wondering, the need for comfort. “Yes.” I feel him soften next to me. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to carry a baby after all the chemo I’ve had. Or that a procedure with a surrogate would take. Or that I’d ever be able to afford that.”
“But, still, they’re not out of the question for you?”
“Never, Parker. I want kids, but I’m okay if I can’t have my own. I’m not against adoption … my parents were blessed with Genna. What I’m scared of is leaving kids if my cancer comes back.”
“Oh, Aundrea.” He pulls me closer. “You’d make a great mother. And wife.”
“Maybe.”
“You still don’t want to get married?”
“It’s not something I’ve ever been interested in.”
“Why not?”
A tear trickles down my cheek. Before I can wipe it away, Parker reaches over and wipes it with his thumb. Our eyes stay connected and my heart is beating fast as I take in the serious look on his face.
“You don’t have to say anything, Aundrea. I get it. You’re scared, but just because you can’t see your future, doesn’t mean I can’t. I see it clearly because I can see mine.”
Parker doesn’t leave my side in the weeks following my final treatment. He is true to his word, acting as my arms when I am too weak, my legs when I don’t think I can move, and my voice when I can’t stand to talk because of the sores. He never looks at me like I am anything but beautiful.
He goes back to work, so Genna comes over to spend the days with me until I’m able to move around freely on my own. He calls and texts multiple times a day, checking in and making sure I’m doing okay, but I never felt like he’s crowding me. I learn to welcome the help, and even enjoy it.
When it comes time for my last lab draw and appointment with Dr. Olson, Parker can’t get out of a surgery and business dinner that he’d already scheduled. I tell him it’s okay and that he’ll be the first to know the results.
Heading to the hospital is the first time I’ve left his house since my last appointment. I read online that it could take up to twelve weeks to see my eyelashes or eyebrows start growing back. Three months seems like a lot, but two weeks have already passed and another four will be spent in the hospital, so I know I can handle it.
“Hi, Aundrea,” Dr. Olson says with a big grin. “Genna.” She shakes my sister’s hand.
“Tell me some good news,” I plead.
“How about great news?”
“That’s even better,” I say with an equally large grin.
“I have you scheduled for the transplant tomorrow morning. Your counts are fantastic, so I don’t want to waste any time.”
“So soon?” I’m beyond ready, but that means I won’t be able to have a full night with Parker before I have to spend four weeks apart from him.
Genna grabs my hand, looking at me with the cutest expression of pure joy. “Aundrea! This is so good!”
I’m overwhelmed.
I’m excited.
I’m speechless.
I know I still have a long road ahead of me, but this is the start of something good. It’s the start of my future.
I can’t wait to tell Parker. Dr. Olson isn’t sure how my visitations will work out quite yet, and won’t be until after the transplant. I can have people with me but, once I’m admitted, everyone has to leave. I can accept that.
I will accept that.
Genna is surprised when I tell her I want to stop by the clinic to tell Parker. I can’t wait until tonight, and I don’t want to tell him on the phone. I’m happy and want him to be a part of it.
Walking into the clinic, I’m thankful when no one is around besides Shannon behind the desk. I keep my distance with my head lowered, afraid to meet her eyes. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. Even though I have my wig on, I’m still missing two key features on my face.
“Aundrea! Hi! Parker should be out in a minute.”
“Hi.” I give a small wave, tucking my chin into my chest to hide my face.
