"Mommy's gonna have one boob, Mommy's gonna..."

The evening two days before my surgery, we sat the boys down and explained to them in the simplest terms possible, what was going on. My oldest son plugged his years and said "I can't hear you!", and then began repeating "nah, nah, nah, nah, nah" over and over again in an effort to not hear what we were trying to tell him. On the other hand, in the land of innocence and nievity, my youngest son bounced on and off the couch giggling about mommy's soon-to-be one boobed chest! One might find this disheartening, but the giggling finally brought my oldest one around, and he listened to us until we came to a level of understanding we could all deal with and he ultimately began to laugh as well.

The day before my surgery, I spent all day with the kids, just them and I. We went out to breakfast, we went shopping, we snuggled on the couch, and we ended the day at Chuckie Cheese for their friends birthday party! There was something about those parking lots though, that made my youngest feel the need to yell out "Hey, remember Mom is gonna have one boob tomorrow! HA HA HA HA"- as they both then fell out laughing! One thing I know is that laughing helps heal wounds, lightens hearts, and just makes you feel good, so I smiled and listened to them sing the One Boob song in the car, and we all laughed and dealt with our fears in the only way we knew how.

On the day of my surgery I went to the hospital with my husband, mom, and dad in tow. I put on the gown and stockings and awaited the man with the good drugs. The next thing I remember was being in my recovery room trying to type a text message with only one eye open, with two eyes open I was still seeing double!

The day after my surgery I ate sushi for lunch and was discharged around 2pm. I was happy to be home and to get into some real clothes.

Things have been going well since I have been home. My pain is fairly minimal, I am working on the range of motion in my arm, and the drainage tubes are manageable. I can look at myself with my bandages on, but am not yet able to look at myself without them. The mirror in our room came down and the bathroom mirrors are temporarily covered. Dan helps me with everything that requires bandage removal. I shower with assistance and my eyes closed. It seems silly, but I am going to have to take some baby steps here. The staples across my chest look like the battery pack zippers in the backs of talking stuffed animals. In my case, instead of taking out the batteries, we took out my breast.

What am I thankful for?! The support and help that we have received during this emotionally difficult time, heart shaped diamonds, and fleece blankies!